


hazy shade of winter

by aminami



Category: Persona 5
Genre: (Akechi's mother), Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, First Time, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Memory Loss, Minor Violence, Persona 5: The Royal Spoilers, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:40:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 25,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25536736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aminami/pseuds/aminami
Summary: “We’ll always be connected.” The words come out of nowhere, but he knows them to be true. “Even if your memory fails you, I’ll always be here.”In a strange turn of events that lead to their reunion, Akechi and Akira investigate the circumstances behind Akechi's miraculous recovery, following loose threads of their lost relationship.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 40
Kudos: 274





	1. Our Purpose

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing Shuake, so I do hope I do the characters justice. The title comes from a rather popular song, surprisingly not a jazz tune. Give it a listen!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What’s your game?” Akechi narrows his eyes. “We run into each other, and yet you’re acting as if no time passed at all. You’re barely surprised that I’m still alive. And you’re all but forcing your way into my private life.”
> 
> “If you were dead, I’d know about it.”

The door jingles as Akechi enters a small shop on his way back from work. It’s an annoying sound, but one he became well-accustomed to it in the last couple of years.

The warm air and a loud “Welcome!” of the elderly shop owner makes him stop for a bit, but he continues going around his business, giving her a courteous nod. The lady recognizes him every time, of course, asking him about work, complementing his new haircut. He replies half-heartedly, not feeling up for the conversation, but at the same time, he has no reason to be rude. He’s been shopping here for a few years now, but they don’t know each other all that well, he realizes.

Yet, they talk almost every day. She doesn’t even know his name, but she’s smart enough not to pry. He likes it here more than other stores in the area, since this one for some reason is almost always empty, save for a few stragglers in the rush hour. He mostly buys the same stuff over and over again to avoid staying in one place longer than necessary. This time is no different. He chooses the ingredients carefully, weighing each and every single one of them in his gloved hand. He looks at perfectly packaged vegetables, and his gaze wanders off briefly to a nearby shelf packed with sweets. There’s a banner with a familiar character in a dynamic pose, pointing its sword right at him. A famous brand of chocolates is having a collab with Featherman, each one containing a limited sticker, he reads in a description.

“My grandson loves tokusatsu!” The owner tells him, clearly watching his every step. “I find them a bit scary, but I can’t help but feel some of his excitement when he tells me about every new episode! I’m actually going to buy him one of those Featherman toys for Christmas. My daughter tells me I’m spoiling him, but he’s my only grandson, it’s only right that he’s spoiled by his grandmother.”

“Indeed,” Akechi smiles briefly and with hesitation, reaches for the chocolate. He grabs some essentials on his way back to the register and passes her the shopping basket.

“You’re a healthy young man,” she points out. “That’s good, you youngsters forget about food way too often! Always eating those microwaved foods and burgers… But it’s fine to let yourself go sometimes, you know.”

“I’ll remember that,” he says with a polite bow. He doesn’t mention he used to be one of those youngsters himself. He pays the bill and accepts the groceries from the owner. To her surprise, he hands the chocolate back to her.

“For your grandson. Merry Christmas.”

“That’s very sweet of you, but…”

“I’m a fellow Featherman fan,” he says softly. “It’s nice that kids still watch this show. Besides, I don’t like sweets. A kid should eat his fair share of chocolate, though.”

She hesitates, carefully studying his face.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you if you don’t mind an old lady being rude.”

“Do I know you from somewhere, dear?” She furrows her eyebrows, trying to remember. “I swear I know this face, I’ve been thinking that ever since you first walked into my shop. Were you on the telly?”

“No, I don’t think so,” he smiles wryly. “I get that a lot, though.”

She nods. He’s sure she doesn’t believe him.

“Please remember what I said about letting yourself go. I hope to see you again soon.”

 _I might not be here_ , he thinks. He thanks her politely and wishes her a good evening before she asks him any more questions.

It’s cold for the first time this year. After a surprisingly warm November, December comes almost unnoticed. To Akechi months fade into months. Last time a co-worker asked how old he was, he actually had to count the years quickly in his head. He’s twenty-five now, yet he barely feels any different. He only celebrated his birthday when he was still a celebrity since he had to put up appearances for the sake of the public. There was also that one time when _He_ sent him a text and…

Akechi snorts to himself almost choking on the cold winter air.

Of course, _He_ would.

He pushes his hands deeper inside the pockets of his long dark coat. He doesn’t stand out from the crowd much, but occasionally he sees women his age passing him interested glances in public transport. He’s wearing black, top to bottom, something he’d never wear in his detective career. It was all about showing his princely charm, back then, after all. He didn’t particularly care about clothes. Black clothes made it easier to blend in with the crowd of a busy businessmen during the rush hour, that was the point, after all.

He looks over the other side of the road to see a construction site, most likely working on another apartment building. There are more and more buildings being remodeled to accommodate the growing population, and the neighborhood has gotten increasingly popular over the past few years. Tokyo is ever-changing, like a hyena ready to jump at whatever dying small business it sees, he concludes in his head. It’s only a matter of time before the old woman’s shop is replaced by another convenience store.

Well, that doesn’t concern him. He doesn’t care about this city that much anyway.

There’s a big billboard featuring an ad for a new clothing store, and he sees Ann Takamaki’s familiar face smiling at him from the picture. It wasn’t here yesterday, but the city has a life on its own, new things showing up randomly every morning. Ex-Phantom Thieves seemed to be doing well. It was only a month ago that he read in a newspaper about Yusuke Kitagawa’s grand success abroad. He wonders if any of them would recognize him now. He sincerely hopes they wouldn’t.

His keen eyes notice a black car hidden right in the backstreet to the left of Ann’s poster. He sighs, letting out a puff of air. _So they’re still at it?_ He turns quickly, opposite of the direction he was initially heading towards, the bag of groceries hanging heavily on his arm. He doesn’t know where to go. It’s getting colder and colder and he just wants to get back to his apartment to get some sleep.

“Sir, you dropped something.”

A voice stops him. He doubts there’s anything he could have possibly dropped, so he half expects to see someone else besides him on the street.

When he turns around, there’s no one here but him and Akira Kurusu.

They both freeze.

Akechi’s instincts tell him to run, but he can’t do that with the mysterious car still just around the corner. He doubts Akira would let him run, anyway. Before he can come to a decision, Akira speaks again.

“Akechi? Is this really you?” He takes a cautious step towards him as if approaching a wild animal. Akechi doesn’t move.

“Please say something. Tell me I’m not seeing things.”

“Come on,” Akechi tells him, his eyes still watching the car. Akira’s gaze follows his own, and he seems to comprehend the situation rather quickly. “Let’s get a move on. It’s better we’re not seen together outside like this.”

“I know a place we can go to,” Akira nods.

Akira’s presence at his side feels like having a heavy stone dropped inside his stomach. He follows his quickstep, too scared to open his mouth in case he might say something he’ll come to regret. They walk in silence for quite some time. Finally, Akira stops in front of a small bar, one of those places that seem to grow out of the street like an odd mushroom. Akechi would most likely never even notice it’s there, the placement seeming almost accidental. He could swear to himself that despite living in the neighborhood for quite some time, he never heard about the place, not to mention seeing it. A weird thought crosses his mind that the place only appeared because Akira took him there in the first place. 

“We’re both adults so… I think you’ll enjoy the atmosphere,” Akira says, almost nervously.

The bar is dim-lit, a soft jazz tune playing as background noise more than the main event. It’s still nice though. It seems mostly empty, a few customers sipping their drinks in complete silence on the high bar stools. It fondly reminds him of the one place in Kichijōji. Akira takes off his jacket and Akechi follows suit almost automatically. That’s when he notices he doesn’t have his groceries. Did he drop them on the street? But surely, he’d know if he did.

“Did you by any chance…”

His voice stops as Akira leads him by the hand to one of the tables near a window. He forgets about the groceries immediately, his hand burning under Akira’s touch. Akechi tries to protest, eyeing the window suspiciously, but Akira just shakes his head.

“You can see what’s happening from the inside. But they can’t see us from the outside.”

“That seems…”

Improbable? Weirdly elaborate?

“Whatever,” he sighs. “It’s only fair, you of all people would know of a place like this.”

“It belongs to a friend,” Akira specifies, sitting down. “I help out. So feel free to order whatever you want.”

True enough, when Akira goes away to buy their drinks, he chats amicably with the bartender for a while. Akechi briefly considers running for it, but a part of him can’t help but be curious about the weird twist of fate that had them both run into each other in the middle of an empty street in Tokyo.

 _Empty except for that one car_ , he realizes. Wasn’t that strange in itself? Akira didn’t seem all that surprised about the ordeal either. You’d think a strange black car would make him nervous, and yet here he was acting all casual.

“Sorry about the wait,” Akira hands him his drink and Akechi accepts it with a small nod. He takes a careful sip. It’s surprisingly good.

“Your style is different from what I remembered,” Akira tells him in a weak attempt of small talk. “You look…”

Akechi takes this opportunity to look at his reflection in the window.

He’s wearing a black turtleneck, tightly hugging his body. His hair is neatly trimmed – he did get a haircut just three days before – in a short bob-like shape. His bangs fall into his eyes just a bit, but it’s not long enough to be really annoying. His face seems even younger now that he decided to go back to shaving every morning. He expects himself to look tired, but his own eyes seem different too, wide and focused, a complete opposite of what he saw this morning in the bathroom mirror. 

So Akira still had that effect on him.

“I look…?” He raises an eyebrow at him.

“Old-school,” Akira decides. “Tall.”

“Tall.”

“Unapproachable. Fashionable. Dare I say handsome?”

“You’re just listing random flattering adjectives, Joker.”

“Unapproachable is flattering…?”

“Depends on the person,” Akechi muses. “And yet, as unapproachable as I may seem, you did approach me. How very unfortunate.”

“I barely recognized you,” Akira cocks his head, his eyes searching. “I feel like… Something inside me knew before my eyes did. That’s why I called out to you.”

“You had too much to drink already.”

“Oh, this?” Joker shakes his glass, watching the ice smash about in the liquid. “It’s non-alcoholic.”

“What’s the point of inviting someone out for a drink when you don’t drink?” Akechi asks, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

“What’s the point of pointing it out?” Akira retorts, a smile barely visible on the corner of his lips. Something about that smile makes Akechi shiver.

“It makes me feel more vulnerable. Mine actually has alcohol in it, so you have the upper hand.”

“I hardly think one drink makes _you_ vulnerable out of all people.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Akira ignores him.

“So how do I look? It’s only fair after I sent so many flattering adjectives your way.”

Akechi forces himself to take a good look at Akira. His face is a bit slimmer than the one in Akechi’s memory. Yes, he realizes. He definitely lost some weight. His eyes look the same, sharp and yet kind, ever infuriating. There are some dark circles under them, probably barely visible to people with less trained eyes. He’s wearing a comfortable black blazer with a dark vest under it, nothing out of ordinary, yet strangely deliberate. The kind of annoying style of someone who seems not to care much about fashion, but somehow always ends up looking like a model. There’s more to that, he realizes. It looks strangely similar to his Metaverse outfit, except less flashy and a bit more elegant. His hair is the exact opposite of Akechi’s – curly, slightly longer than his old high school haircut.

He studies Akira’s face a bit longer to discover the most obvious detail that somehow escaped his attention.

“You’re not wearing your glasses,” he comments out loud. Judging from Akira’s satisfied expression, it’s the right answer.

“Indeed,” he takes a sip of his non-alcoholic drink, his eyes never leaving Akechi’s. “It took you a while to notice.”

He tries to understand Akira’s words. Somehow the entire exchange seems more meaningful than it looked at the first glance, so Akechi weighs his words carefully.

“I’m not sure how to talk to you,” he ends up saying. “It’s exhausting.”

“Because it’s been so long?”

“You seem different and yet strangely familiar,” Akechi shakes his head. “And I don’t mean the glasses. You’re talkative. You’re expressive. Playful. More like Joker than Akira Kurusu.”

“The mask hides the man underneath it.”

“No. It’s more like you’ve merged. And I’m not sure who I’m talking to right now.”

“Does it matter, _Crow_?”

Akechi sighs. He’s too tired for this. This is not how he imagined this day to end.

“Listen, Kurusu. I want to wrap this up as quickly as possible, so please don’t make it any more painful than it has to be. Yes, I am alive. No, I don’t know how. Yes, my memory seems to be intact. No, I don’t think it’s more of Maruki’s type of interference. Yes, it is strange. No, I don’t need your assistance. No, I don’t want to see you again. No, I’m not interested in how your friends are doing. Does that answer most of the questions you were going to ask me?”

“Almost.” To his surprise, Akira’s still watching him calmly. “One more question and I promise I’ll let you go.”

“Great,” Akechi grits his teeth. “Make sure not to waste it.”

“Oh, I won’t,” Akira replies a bit dryly. “So if you don’t mind, answer me this – why are you sitting here?”

“What kind of stupid question is that?” Akechi snorts. “Because you invited me. And I’m leaving right now.”

This time Akira moves, his pale hand catching Akechi’s wrist. Their eyes meet again and something about that gaze makes Akechi sit back down. He can feel anger, the kind he hasn’t felt in year slowly bubble in his chest.

“I forgot how much I hate you,” he spits.

“Yet, you’re still here,” Akira points out, letting go of his wrist. “Must have been a rough couple of years to make you enjoy spending time with me.”

“I always enjoyed spending time with you.”

He doesn’t know why he says that, but it’s true. Akira’s quick-witted, sarcastic, funny. All the traits he could possibly enjoy about a person. He’s probably the only person in his life Akechi didn’t have to force himself to meet up with. Perhaps, in a different scenario, they could have even become friends.

“Spend a night with me,” Akira says unexpectedly.

“I just told you I don’t want to see you again. Not to mention…”

“I never said I want to have sex with you,” he clarifies. “I want to spend a night with you. In your apartment, talking. Seems fair after all the times I invited you out in the past, don’t you think?”

“What’s your game?” Akechi narrows his eyes. “We run into each other, and yet you’re acting as if no time passed at all. You’re barely surprised that I’m still alive. And you’re all but forcing your way into my private life.”

“If you were dead, I’d know about it.”

“How very romantic,” Akechi can’t stop mockery from slipping into his tone. “You’re dodging the question.”

“If it helps, think of it as means to an end,” Akira rests his chin on his hand, playing with the straw of his drink absent-mindly. “I think a night together would prove beneficial to both of us. That’s all.”

“That’s all,” Akechi repeats, snorting.

“You’re backing down from a challenge then?”

“I never said I did. But unlike you, I tend to look before I jump. Being a murderer kind of makes you realize the importance of such tiny details.”

“And hopefully tonight won’t end up with murder,” Akira says, already grabbing his jacket. “By all means, feel free to try. But it does seem like a tragic waste of your precious time.”

He’s already out the door, cold winter air blowing through the open crack. Akechi grabs his coat with a sigh and leaves the bar with Akira. Joker doesn’t even look back to check if he follows, ever the natural leader. It’s almost as if he knows where Akechi lives, despite Akechi not mentioning anything about his apartment. He only stops to look at the sky briefly and Akechi finally catches up with his quick pace.

“It’s going to snow soon,” he mutters, more to himself than anyone else. Akechi doesn’t ask why it matters.

When they reach his apartment, Akechi comes to the conclusion that this is all part of a strange dream. It has to be. Or maybe he was finally completely losing his marbles. He feels weirdly lightheaded, none of his own decisions making any semblance of sense. It was almost like being led by a weird thread, pulling at his hands, and forcing his feet to move forward. Right before the entrance to the building, Akira stops again.

“I saw you.” He says unexpectedly. Akechi just puts up with it, too.

“When did you see me?”

“Years ago. Spring, my second year of high school. Right before leaving Tokyo. You were on the platform and my train was about to depart. It was just a glimpse, and I could never be sure. I guess I should have started by saying just that but… I’m glad you’re still alive, Akechi.”

“Just come in before I change my mind,” Akechi rolls his eyes unsure if Akira’s words make him happy or angry.

They ride the elevator to the seventh floor. The building is old and the elevator is creaking terribly, but if Akira notices, he refrains from commenting on it. None of them says anything. The elevator stops abruptly and Akechi watches the door open, once again wondering why on Earth he agreed to all of this. Akira remains silent, patiently waiting for Akechi to make his move. He follows Akechi this time, so quietly that by the end of the hallway, Akechi is forced to look back to see if he’s still there. Akira meets his eyes with a smile. Akechi wants to punch him in the face.

He fumbles with his keys, and finally, Akechi opens the door, letting Akira come inside.

The apartment is small and mostly bare. If it wasn’t for a coffee mug in the sink, and some unopened letters on the kitchen table, one could think no one lives here. It’s nothing like his previous place. He doesn’t know what happened to his old apartment and all the stuff in it. After being captured by the government officials, he traveled a lot, helping to dig up dirt on Shido’s old accomplices. It was part of the deal to keep him out of jail. After he exhausted his usefulness, someone else took care of his university enrolment papers and got him a part-time job. He was placed inside this very apartment, and seemingly left to his own devices. He got to keep some of his clothes and a few books that he placed in a box in his bedroom, but he never spared them a second glance.

Since then, he managed to graduate from university, mostly out of sheer boredom, and partly out of fear of the unknown. He wasn’t stupid. Years of being a hitman taught him well enough to know when he was being watched. The mysterious car he saw only proved he was right all long. He was sure the moment he’d stop showing up to his classes, the government would intervene, putting him back in his cell. So he put up with it. For a while.

He turns the light on and takes Akira’s jacket, almost involuntarily. He never invited anyone over, so he doesn’t really know what to do with himself. He lets Akira walk around his flat like a curious tourist, wondering if he acted the same way when Akira first invited him to his attic.

“Do you still live in that dump?” He asks to make small talk.

“You mean Leblanc?” Akira turns around, casually going through his mail. Akechi doesn’t stop him. “No, I moved out some time ago. I’m renting out a cheap place, pretty far from here. Before you ask, I was here to visit my friend, I had no idea I’d run into you. Leblanc’s still run by the chief, I’m sure he’d love to see you again. It’s even less busy now, so Futaba’s using the attic as her temporary office.”

“An office? What is it that she does?”

“I could answer that, but it could possibly get us arrested. Or killed.”

“Could be worse.”

“I guess it might seem irrelevant to someone receiving such a vast amount of death threats,” Akira turns towards him holding an envelope in his hands. “What the hell is this?”

“A death threat, like you said,” Akechi answers calmly.

“Akechi, this is serious. Did you show it to the police?”

“I’m a murderer, Kurusu.” Akechi snorts. “I can imagine how happy they would be to help me out with anything. Besides, I can’t believe I need to explain it to you out of all people, but what is it that they can do anyway? Police are even more useless without me saving their asses as a detective.”

“Granted, you were the culprit behind some of the cases,” Akira points out. His hand is still squeezing the envelope.

“And I have no regrets,” he says honestly. “In any case, this is just what happens. As long as people are sure they will stay anonymous, they are bound to say all kinds of things. Wasn’t it the same with that Phansite of yours? They can badmouth me all they want, telling me how they want my head displayed in front of the Imperial Palace. They all talk big but doing anything about it would actually require some effort. They just want to see me dead but not kill me. And if they change their minds, well… Persona on my hand or not, I can still defend myself. I don’t care either way.”

“Still, I’d at least move if I were you. How do they know you’re here anyway? I thought you were presumed dead.”

He’s well informed, as expected. Probably courtesy of Sae.

“The government pays for this flat,” Akechi says with a shrug. “They keep an eye on me. And it’s probably the government that released a certain rumor online. Akechi Goro, fallen Detective Prince and a murderer, presumed dead, seen just a few stops from here. People aren’t stupid. They can connect the dots.”

“Hence the haircut?”

“The haircut has nothing to do with it,” Akechi plays with his bangs. “My hair got way too long. It got annoying. That’s all there is to it. I let my hairdresser do what she wanted, and this is the result. Why is the haircut important again?”

“You look cute,” Akira compliments. “You’re right, perhaps the haircut isn’t important. Hope I didn’t hurt your precious pride.”

“You couldn’t if you tried. Don’t call me cute.”

Akira sits down on the only chair Akechi owns, leaving him to lean against the wall with a sigh.

“Did you really mean it?” Akira breaks the silence. “About not having regrets?”

Akechi clenches his fists involuntarily.

“Ah, again with your stupid faith in me. Nothing changed, _Joker_.” Somehow the nickname almost sounds like a slur in his mouth. “Would I wish for my life to be different? Would I wish to have my mother alive and happy? Would I wish to see my piece of shit of a father dead? That might very well be true. Maybe those would be the very things Maruki would be able to sway me with. But with things as they are… No, I don’t have any regrets. I’d do all of it again. Including the murders. Including killing you.”

“You didn’t kill me,” Akira points out. “I’m right here.”

“But I was convinced that I was in fact murdering you,” Akechi smiles bitterly. “And trust me, _I was_ happy to see your pretty little brain decorating the wall of that interrogation room. Don’t worry, I have no reason to murder you now. And I don’t think it would make me happy anymore. I’m a retired murderer if you will.”

“A retired murderer is still a murderer.”

“What’s your deal?” Akechi feels himself losing control again. “You barge in, you go through my stuff like you own the place, you spit out some cryptic bullshit faster than I can begin to reply, and then you make it sound like you’re here to announce your final judgment.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Akira says calmly. “I guess I didn’t expect things to go so smoothly.”

“This is smooth? I’m _this_ close to murdering you.”

“You’re talking to me,” Akira leans on the table. “That’s already more than I expected. I act cocky, but I assure you, I didn’t hope tonight would go so well.”

“You make it sound like you knew you were going to see me today after all.”

“I didn’t,” Akira shakes his head. “You’re tired of puzzles. Fine, I’m tired too. I’m also just as confused as you are, and I’m trying to make sense of what I’m seeing. That’s all.”

“Does something feel off to you?” Akechi questions immediately.

“No, that’s the thing. Nothing feels off. And that in itself, seems off. The fact that we met today is nothing more than a coincidence, and I think both of us have a hard time accepting it. Hence, I decided it would be best if we spent the night together. To see if something strange does happen. And perhaps to answer any doubts you and I might have about what happened a few years ago.”

Akechi hates to admit he’s right out loud, so he just nods.

“I’ll start first. You said your memory is intact. But you wouldn’t know if something was missing, would you? So let me ask you, what happened after Maruki’s battle? Why did you vanish if you didn’t die?”

“I remember the battle with Maruki clearly,” Akechi confirms. “I remember you two were alone and Morgana… He turned into a helicopter, as hard as I find it to believe. We got separated, and I got kicked out of the Metaverse. When I came to, I was in a cell. I asked the guard about the date. It was the next day following Maruki’s deadline. After that, some black suits came in, offering me a deal to keep me out of prison. They said I already graduated from high school, resigned from the police force, and announced my dismissal. They took care of everything. They said however that I’ll be dead to the public come spring, and they will release the information about who was behind the incidents to pin it all on a dead man. For some time, I was helping them clean up Shido’s mess. Then they placed me here under a fake name and signed me up for a university. They even got me a part-time job. Does that convince you?”

“Why would they want you to finish university?”

“The initial plan was to use my detective skills, and I needed a higher education to be of any use to them. I’m not sure why they still haven’t contacted me. Things are eerily quiet.”

“Except for the car.”

“Except for the car,” Akechi agrees. “I guess it won’t be much longer.”

“Thank you for your honesty,” Akira nods. Akechi doesn’t like his tone. He can’t help but think it all begins to sound more and more like an interrogation.

“How do you know I’m not lying?” He challenges.

“You have no reason to lie to me.”

“Can’t think of any reason to tell you the truth either.”

“Lying takes some effort,” Akira points out. “Besides, you want answers just as much as I do. That being said, this works both ways. So is there anything you want me to clarify?”

“I’m not interested in your personal life,” Akechi shrugs. “Seems pointless to ask you about what happened since if you knew something, you’d already say so. You came here to get some answers yourself.”

“Then ask about something else.”

“I suppose there’s one thing you can tell me,” Akechi admits. “It doesn’t have anything to do with me coming back from the dead, though.”

“That’s fine. I didn’t say it’d have to be.”

“I want to know what happened after we separated in Shido’s palace. I still don’t remember anything between the engine room and waking up in Maruki’s reality. And since you took my revenge from me, you owe me at least that.”

“That’s quite the story,” Akira agrees, but he hesitates before sending Akechi an annoyed look. “You intend to stand there glaring the entire time?”

“There isn’t anywhere for me to sit. I don’t think I’ve ever had guests here, so there isn’t much furniture.”

Akira looks around helplessly.

“What about your bed?”

“Kurusu, I swear if you’re going to…”

“We’ll sit opposite of each other,” Akira promises. “All civil, fully dressed. No need to act like a prude.”

“Not a prude,” Akechi groans, but he’s already on his way to the bedroom. “I just don’t have time for this. Let’s make this quick.”

They sit on the bed facing each other, just like Akira described they would. He can’t help but think they like two kids home alone, about to tell each other ghost stories. In a way, they are going to do just that. Akira starts his tale by explaining how Akechi’s signal vanished from Futaba’s sensors. Akechi once again confirms he doesn’t remember much of what happened, he just remembers a gunshot and then... His hand instinctively moves to his chest, Akira’s eyes immediately on him. If he’s suspecting anything, he doesn’t say a word, continuing his story. He tells him of his battle against Shido. Ryuji almost dying. That part barely concerns Akechi, but he doesn’t dare to interrupt. Unless… He places a hand on his chin, deep in thought.

“Other than Ryuji and me, was there anyone else miraculously coming back to life?”

“Ryuji didn’t miraculously come back to life, he was never dead, to begin with,” Akira clarifies. “I think we can safely cross him out of our list. Anything else?”

“You mentioned you don’t sense anything off. But something does seem off to me.”

Akira raises an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to elaborate.

“What’s with the cross-examination?” Akechi asks. “You’ve been interrogating me since the moment you saw me.”

“You don’t like the role reversal? Me being an inspector?”

“This isn’t funny.”

“Out of the two of us, you’re the criminal, Mister Detective,” Akira snaps. “Besides…”

His eyes grow wide.

“Morgana.”

“Morgana is a detective now?”

“No, you asked me if anyone else miraculously came back to life. Morgana did.”

“Think you can ask him?” Akechi feels his heart race.

“There isn’t much to ask,” Akira sighs. “He thought he was going to vanish, and then he woke up in the middle of Tokyo. Morgana isn’t human. I don’t think his case can tell us much about yours.”

Sensing Akechi’s confusion, he summarizes the battle in Mementos, and the details behind’s Morgana’s existence. He tells him of God of Control, a man named Igor, a girl called Lavenza, and the Velvet Room. Wild cards, arcana, the two of them pitted against each other in a game set up by a god… All of it makes Akechi’s head spin but he figures it’s all too stupid for Akira to be making this up.

“So, God of Control,” he repeats. “What are the chances you didn’t get rid of him?”

“Slim. You seem weirdly calm.”

“I’m too tired to question anything that you said. And about the Velvet Room… You said it didn’t manifest since our battle against Maruki.”

Akira nods.

“So we decided it’s not Maruki,” Akechi sums up. “It’s not God of Control. It’s most likely not the residents of the Velvet Room. I doubt the government has anything to do with it either.”

He rubs his eyes, pressing his fingers against his eyelids as hard as he can. A part of him hopes Akira will be gone when he looks up again. He isn’t. Akechi suddenly feels tired.

“Let’s stay in touch over the next couple of days,” he decides. He doesn’t want to see him again, but if Akira’s suspicions turn out to be true, it could be serious. He can wait a few days with everything he has planned. “Let’s see if we notice anything out of the ordinary.”

“And if we don’t?”

Akechi lies down closing his eyes.

“Then we’ll just have to accept that I’m a walking miracle and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

Akira hums in agreement. He feels the mattress shift slightly as Akira lies down next to him, but their bodies don’t touch, the distance between them ever-present.

“It’s pretty ironic,” Akechi says suddenly, looking at Akira. “You, out of all people, fighting him on a cruise ship.”

“Are we back to Shido? You’ve been there, you knew it was a cruise ship.”

“I never got to comment on it.”

“I guess, you were preoccupied with losing your mind. Anyway, ironic how?”

“Your persona, Arsène,” Akechi elaborates. “You know the books about _The Gentleman Thief_ , I assume. One of them takes place on a cruise ship. Right before Arsène Lupin gets caught.”

“I don’t think I’ve read that one. Mind telling me about it as a bedtime story?”

“The narrator is one of the passengers,” he begins, fighting the urge to throw Akira out of his apartment. He’s too tired to bicker anyway. “In the middle of their journey, the Captain of the ship announces that he got a message from the police through a telegraph. They are convinced that the famous Arsène Lupin is one of the passengers on their ship. But the message cuts off due to a storm. All they know is that Arsène Lupin is blond, has a wound on his forearm, and his name starts with the letter R. It’s not hard to come up with the list of passengers who fit the description. The narrator decides to exclude passengers who travel with companions, as it’s not likely for Arsène Lupin to keep someone close. Among the passengers, there’s a beautiful woman…”

“There’s always a woman,” Akira smirks.

“…that the narrator promptly falls in love with,” Akechi finishes with a faint smile. “They start their investigation together. Soon one man, in particular, catches their attention, and so he’s captured by the crew as a suspect. Except, he too becomes a victim of Arsène Lupin. Things get hectic. One of the passengers claims her jewels were stolen by the thief himself, and she shows them his signature calling card as proof. The panic continues. Once the ship finally reaches America, they’re greeted by Inspector Ganimard who devotes his life to catching the thief. The narrator and his female companion can’t shake their excitement. Soon they will learn the truth. One after another, passengers leave the ship. They all pass through Ganimard’s control, including the suspicious man. Finally, the narrator gives his camera to the woman and decides to leave the ship as well. Just as he’s about to sneak out, Ganimard grabs his arm, and the narrator howls in pain. It turns out he was the thief all along.”

“How does the story end?”

“The beautiful woman realizes that the jewels stolen by Arsène Lupin must be hidden inside the camera. And so, she’s holding the very evidence that could make Ganimard’s case. The narrator knows as much as their eyes meet for the last time. She approaches the gangway… and pretends she’s about to trip. She drops the camera into the sea. And then, she vanishes in the crowd without looking back.”

“Despite his lies, she wouldn’t betray him,” Akira sums up. “That’s quite a story.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t know it.”

“Oh, I did know it,” Akira sits up a bit, to look at Akechi’s face. “I just wanted to hear you talk.”

“Then why did you ask me how it ends?”

“Maybe I wanted to make sure I remembered it correctly.”

“I really don’t understand you,” Akechi sighs.

“You really don’t have to.”

Akira’s shoulder brushes against his side. He could let himself enjoy it, he could just ignore it. But it bothers him.

“We’re not in high school anymore,” Akechi tells him. “You can tell me what you want.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I told you, I’m tired of games. I’m too old for footsies, avoiding each other’s glances, innuendos, or whatever teenage drama tropes you decide to play out next. Just tell me what you want so I can decide if I want to give it to you.”

“Too old?” Akira actually laughs. “You’re twenty-five.”

“Joker.”

“You and I both know, I can’t want things from you,” Akira says seriously. “Maybe that’s why I enjoy our verbal footsie. As immature as you claim it to be.”

“So there is footsie.”

“There might be.”

They fall silent.

“How badly do you want to kill me,” Akira asks suddenly.

“Is this another question? I feel like you still owe me some.”

“No one’s keeping score, Crow.”

“I’m always keeping score when it comes to you,” Akechi retorts and it makes Akira smile. “And it fluctuates. At the moment I’m too tired to kill you. Besides, you’re useful to me. To answer your next question, no, I didn’t kill anyone since we last saw each other. I don’t even know why I care what you think of me, but you should stop assuming I enjoyed murdering all these people. It was all means to an end, using your own words. Killing you, or attempting to at least, wasn’t much different. If it wasn’t me, it would be someone else, Shido wanted you dead. And I wanted to… I don’t know what I wanted anymore. If that helps, watching you die was a strange experience. I’ve never killed anyone outside of the metaverse without using my Persona. Well, as it later turned out, even that happened within the Metaverse. It felt real enough, though.”

He doesn’t know why he’s blurting out his feelings like that. Perhaps, it’s because none of it feels real even now. He can convince himself Akira isn’t even here. Or maybe, he’s not as resistant to alcohol as he thinks he is.

“I’m glad I was special,” Akira muses, immediately making Akechi regret saying anything in the first place.

“I’m glad you think this is a joke,” he spits.

“You have the right to enjoy watching me die. I get to keep my right to enjoy outsmarting you back then. It’s only fair.”

Akira takes a moment to gather his thoughts.

“I don’t think this is trivial,” he tells Akechi. “I never did. I had all of these complicated feelings for you. I wanted to believe so badly you weren’t the man behind the black mask. I wanted to believe so badly you wouldn’t betray us. I liked you. I enjoyed our talks, I liked fighting with you by my side. And I could tell that despite all the false pretense, you enjoyed yourself, too. You told me things that could have been lies. But they weren’t. We both know that in the end, we’re the only ones able to understand one another.”

“You’re about to run some psychological analysis on me? This is stupid.”

“I think kindness starts eating at you like a disease,” Akira says his eyes not leaving Akechi’s. “You’re afraid of kindness. You’re afraid of moving forward. You’ve reached an impasse. And I think it’s the same for me. That’s why we met today.”

“I’ve never been kind,” Akechi snorts. “I’ll leave kindness to you, _leader_.”

“It’s been a while since someone called me that,” Akira chuckles bitterly. “You know, you always tell me how much you despise me. The truth is, I can’t stand you sometimes. You talk big, you pretend to be cold, you pretend to know everything about me. I think you’re full of shit.”

“You knew that already. Nothing changed.”

“Losing you hurt like hell,” Akira looks tormented and it makes Akechi look away. “I spent the last few years wondering if I made a mistake saying no to Maruki. Thinking that maybe I never should have listened to you even if you ended up hating me. That maybe, a life in forced happiness is better than no life at all.”

“All my life I’ve been forced to play a part someone else set up to me,” Akechi says, wondering why he even attempts to make Akira feel less guilty. “You did the right thing. I can’t say I comprehend all of that God of Control bullshit you told me about, but it seems like no matter what I’d do, it was always going to end this way. What good has come from me being alive? I don’t know what to do with my life. Shido’s out of my reach. My mother’s dead. I don’t have friends or family. I can’t continue my career as a detective.”

“Impasse.”

“Impasse,” Akechi repeats. “Things really must be off if I end up agreeing with you.”

“You seem to enjoy our conversation.”

“I don’t talk to people much, so it’s not like you have any competition,” Akechi shrugs. “Also, I did have a drink, an alcoholic one unlike you. I fully intend to use it as an excuse for all the bad decisions I made so far.”

“Like inviting me over?”

“For one,” Akechi looks back at Akira’s tired face. He looks young despite all of that, and at that moment, very vulnerable. There was a time he’d enjoy seeing him like this, but it wasn’t the case now. “You always do this. You say random things and then people end up giving you their backstories, sharing their fucking feelings like you’re the local therapist. Like they’re under some spell. You and Maruki seem to be alike.”

“You’re not under my spell, Akechi.”

“What is it about you then?” He insists. “Why are you here to haunt me? You and I both know this little investigation leads to nowhere. We won’t find out anything useful. Metaverse is gone, we don’t have our Personas, nothing’s out of ordinary. For all I know, me being alive is just a cruel gift left by this god of yours to torment me even further.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Akira sits up. “Maybe we should just let matters rest. But you’re not the only one who hasn’t felt alive in a long time. I haven’t felt like this in such a long time. I miss it – the adrenaline, my friends, being Joker… We share a bond, whether you like it or not. Our lives were ruined by Shido, we were both chosen by the same god for one purpose. I understand you. But I hardly think it’s fair to blame all your poor decisions on me.”

“We’re not similar at all,” Akechi defends. “I told you once, we’re thesis and anti-thesis. We do share a bond, but it was always meant to end in a disaster.”

“Fuck your Hegel.”

“Excuse me?”

Akira’s not smiling anymore.

“I’m not here to tell you what you went through was worthless. I can’t begin to understand what happened that someone so young developed the pure hatred that I saw in Loki, or that things ended up the way they did. But blaming everything on a cruel twist of fate? Come on, I thought you had more balls than that.”

Akechi is speechless.

“You never confronted your own hated,” Akira continues, looking right through him. “And you can’t confront your own need for love, for being appreciated. You’re so stuck on your own negative feelings that you can’t let anything else in. That is why things happened the way they did in Shido’s palace.”

“It wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for you and your stupid friends interfering with my plan!” Akechi doesn’t realize he stood up until he sees Akira looking up at him in shock. “You should have stayed dead. I should have killed my father and then, maybe then I’d find some semblance of peace. I don’t care about this stupid world! I don’t care about some god leading it towards ruin! No one asked me if I wanted to be a part of this game, no one helped me as they helped you! Maruki never asked me about my happiness! So tell me, Joker, how is that fair? Who are you to tell me what I should feel when it’s always been about you?”

“You had a choice, you cocky piece of shit!” Akira spites angrily. “I had a choice, Ryuji had a choice, Ann had a choice, Yusuke had a choice. All my friends, we all had a choice! We were all hurt! We were all lost! But only one of us decided to turn into a murderer. Only one of us betrayed us for petty revenge! And you can’t know how many times I considered killing someone off, the way you did. Killing someone within the Metaverse takes no effort at all, don’t you think? You don’t even see blood, they just vanish like a bad dream. Like Haru’s father. And then…”

Akira clenches his fist.

“I almost killed Shido for you. And I can’t unsee it. I can’t stop feeling angry. I can’t stop thinking about how helpless I felt all that time. I watched you die. I went along with your wishes to stop Maruki. Everything happens outside of my control, so how are we different?! Who are _you_ to tell me how to feel?!”

Akira catches him off guard, pushing him hard so that Akechi’s back is pressed against a wall.

“I guess I’m scared I’m slowly turning into you,” he says in the same cold tone. “If you can’t handle your own kindness, then I can’t handle my own anger.”

It’s the first time Akechi heard Akira yell, he realizes, and Akira seems to come to the same conclusion.

“I’m sorry, I…” He takes a step back, mortified. “I don’t think I’ve ever… I don’t know what came over me…”

Akechi kisses him.

It’s not an easy kiss, nothing about them is. Their feelings melt together, anger and longing, confusion, and relief. After every push comes to a shove. One moment it’s him pressed against a wall, the next it’s Akira pressed against the mattress. Akira’s fingers reach for his neck, the very movement making him jump, but all he does is pull on the fabric of his turtleneck, biting and kissing Akechi’s exposed skin. A part of him hopes it will leave a bruise, but he’d never admit it out loud. He rolls his hips into the warm body trapped under him, enjoying every sound Akira makes. He feels him thrust back weakly, the feeling more satisfying than he expected. He grabs Akira by the chin, forcing him to look at him. Akira’s pupils are blown wide, lips red, his chest struggling to catch a breath.

He can almost taste the madness he’s always felt within himself. He opens Akira’s mouth forcefully, pushing his tongue inside, and that only causes Akira to grow harder against Akechi’s hip. He’s getting off on it just as much as he is, he realizes with the same satisfaction. They really are the same. They both hope for their mutual destruction. They rut against each other until they’re both spent, Akira’s hands leaving marks all over his back as he comes, in a way that’s sure to draw blood. Akira really does enjoy scarring him in all the ways possible.

He forces himself to let go of his body, catching one last hungry look hiding in his eyes. That one look makes him push all the regrets to the back of his head for now. His pants are sticky but he feels too lightheaded to move an inch. Akira doesn’t say much for a while, rubbing his chin where Akechi’s fingers were holding him. Perhaps he’s not the only one who’s going to end up with a bruise, but he can’t bring himself to feel remorse.

“Thank you,” Akira says surprisingly. Akechi looks at him again, but Akira’s eyes are already closed, a small smile playing on his lips.

“For what?”

Akira sighs and leans over. He gives him a long kiss, his hand pushing down on Akechi’s chest, holding him in place. It’s slow and deliberate, and for some reason, Akechi can’t bring himself to kiss him back. Something about the kiss feels final.

“Answering one of my questions.”

He doesn’t remember anything else about that night. He vaguely recalls Akira moving to the kitchen, a quiet hum as he makes himself a cup of coffee and a sigh, as he complains about its quality. Akechi can no longer keep his eyes open, he pushed away his exhaustion for far too long. The room grows brighter as the dawn approaches. He thinks he can see the sunrise, lighting up Akira’s silhouette in his kitchen. He no longer feels watched.

* * *

When Akechi wakes up later in the morning, Akira’s long gone. He’s wearing his sweatpants and, as he quickly realizes, a fresh pair of boxers. Yet, if it wasn’t for a lonely coffee mug abandoned on the table, he’d be inclined to believe everything that happened last night was nothing but a dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally meant as a one-shot but I quickly realized that the story is growing to be more complicated than I initially planned. Chapter 2 "Our Hopes, Our Desires" is mostly finished so stay tuned! Heads up - it does contain more explicit content. 
> 
> As a side note, the story Akechi mentions is actually the first one in "Arsène Lupin, Gentleman Burglar", and it's called "The Arrest of Arsène Lupin". I highly recommend it if you enjoy mystery novels.


	2. Our Hopes, Our Desires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You do realize that if what you’re saying is true, that means I’ll eventually forget about you as well?” Akechi looks him straight in the eyes as he says that. “Are you really okay with that?”
> 
> “Yes, I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update: Some tags were added in accordance with Chapter 2, the summary was also changed. Please check if what you're reading is still your cup of tea.

There’s a dream Akechi had since his early childhood.

He’s walking down a dark corridor. At least he thinks it’s a corridor, but he can’t see or feel anything but the solid ground he walks on. He stretches his hand out and sees nothing – the darkness enveloping him is so thick that he can’t even see his own body. It’s a hungry being with a mind of its own, ready to swallow everything surrounding it. For some reason, he thinks darkness as deep as this should feel cold, but he’s incapable of sensing anything at all. All of his senses are dulled but his sense of hearing – he can hear his own steps clearly as they echo off what he suspects to be walls, other than that there’s no sound at all. He wants to speak to feel less alone, but he can’t find his own voice.

The dream comes back now and then, now more frequently than it used to. And so almost every night he wanders down the black corridor, but he’s unable to find an exit.

Except, this time he’s not alone.

He can hear a very faint sound, so faint that it’s almost not there. He can’t exactly place it at first, but he soon recognizes the sound to be a flutter of wings. The creature must be small, and the sound echoes weakly in his own skull. Upon hearing the sound, he wakes up every time without fail. Almost as if the wings served as a reminder to find his way back to his body.

The dream is fleeting, always slipping right through his fingers upon awakening. It’s no different now. He decides not to move for a moment, hoping to recall anything at all. Whatever it was, his gut tells him it’ll come back again the following night.

Joker hasn’t contacted him in two days, and Akechi dumbly realizes he doesn’t have his phone number. His old phone was long gone, and the new one only had his boss’s number. He never uses it for anything else, having virtually no desire to engage in social life. It really is just a very expensive alarm clock in the end. It could be useful for once if he’d be able to contact Akira somehow. The moment the thought appears in his mind, he hears a familiar buzz somewhere over his head. He quickly grabs the phone from his nightstand.

It’s his boss.

_Can you come in an hour earlier? There’s a personal matter I must attend to, I need someone to be in the office. Hope I didn’t wake you up._

He looks at the clock – it’s almost six am. He usually starts work around nine.

 _I’ll be there but you owe me,_ he replies simply. It’s not like he has anything better to do. The phone buzzes again.

_Manners! I am your boss, you know. Just say you’re happy to help me out._

He doesn’t bother to text her back.

He’s a personal assistant to an excessively rich woman, and their relationship is one of mutual hatred. He hates the clack of her heels on the marble flooring. He hates her loud obnoxious voice as she talks to her clients. He hates her colorful clothes that would probably make her noticeable even from the orbit. He hates her compliments about his looks, and when she tries to act like his mother. He did get a haircut only because she was threatening to cut off his ponytail when he wasn’t looking. He told her he’d rip off her hand if she even tried, but she didn’t seem to think he was too serious. True enough, getting arrested for killing her would be rather stupid and he’s not going to rot in a cell because of someone like her.

The job has far more pros than cons, though. Even though his job description says personal assistant, he’s virtually an overpaid secretary. She doesn’t expect much other than sitting in the office while listening to her occasional ranting. He takes calls ( _trying_ to stay polite), manages her calendar, and tells her she looks awful in her new dress. For some reason, other than criticizing his looks, she doesn’t seem to mind his behavior at all. He’s plainly rude, not even trying to keep up a false pretense, lowkey hoping that someday she’ll finally fire him. Yet the rudeness is the one part she came to appreciate about him.

“When you’re someone like me,” she said to him once, “You have plenty of people trying to kiss their way up your ass. You’re different. You don’t sugar-coat your words, and you’re not fake like all the other bratty assistants I had before you. So bark at me all you want, just do your damn job.”

He grew to like her a little more then.

He gets dressed making sure to wear something to cover the offensive hickey – he should be mad about it, but at this point, it’s the only thing reminding him that what happened between him and Akira was real. He lets his fingers brush over it with a sigh. It really was easier hiding such things when his hair was still long. He never really allowed another person to mark him, but it did happen occasionally when he was still in college. He didn’t get far with anyone, nor was he interested. But not even he can’t deny that what happened with Akira was more intimate than it should have been, and he most likely would do it again.

Akechi doesn’t usually eat breakfast, but he decides to drink a cup of coffee before leaving. He childishly refuses to use the mug Akira used during his stay, yet everything still feels _off_ – even the coffee tastes more disgusting than usual. He blames that on Akira, too. Just to be sure, he decides to check his phone again, this time to scroll through his apps to see if there’s the familiar eye of Metanav glaring back at him. Nothing. He checks the news as well, but there isn’t anything particularly interesting. Should he expect something to happen? Maybe everything that happened really was just a stupid coincidence? Or perhaps, he hopes something _would_ happen?

He leaves the house, stopping by the usual store on his way to work. The lady is surprised to see him as if she really did expect it to be the last time they saw each other. He really was going to consider running away. Perhaps, he still does. But with things ending up the way they did, his plans had to wait. He hates the idea of leaving matters to a fickle thing such as fate – he leaves believing in such things to Akira – but all he can do for now is wait and hope he runs into him again. With fate’s help or not.

At the store, he buys a warm meat skewer – this is also one of his habits. After leaving the shop, he enters a small, dirty alley with nothing but an abandoned bathhouse and a couple of dumpsters. He crouches and whistles loudly, looking around.

Soon enough, he hears a rustle behind one of the dumpsters and a giant dog emerges – it looks at Akechi suspiciously, despite him coming here almost every day for the past few weeks. He first ran into it after coming back from his work. With its black fur, he could barely see it in the dim-lit alley, and yet his sharp senses quickly spied a yellow pair of eyes watching him from a corner. He doesn’t know why he bothers to come here every day to feed it. Perhaps, a part of him admires its will to survive. It really was rare for a stray dog not to be captured and taken away after such a long period of time.

Akechi leaves the skewer on the ground and the dog comes closer. It sniffs the gift suspiciously.

“You should give me some credit,” Akechi tells the dog, rolling his eyes. “If I wanted to poison you, I’d do it more efficiently than this. Or I’d call animal control to tell them about you. Speaking of which, you should be careful. The old lady at the shop said there are already rumors about you, so someone might rat you out eventually.”

The dog looks him in the eyes for a moment as if considering his words, and finally accepts the gift. Akechi watches it eat for a moment before he gets up.

“I don’t particularly care what happens to you,” he continues. “But it would be a shame if things ended up in such a way after everything you’ve been through, don’t you think? Are you even going to be alright during winter? They say it’s going to be a cold one. The snow is coming very soon. If you want I can…”

A bark. It doesn’t seem too happy.

“You don’t need help?” Akechi chuckles. “I know how that feels. Suit yourself, I suppose. I’ll be here tomorrow.”

He knows he’s crazy for talking to a dog. It’s not like the animal understands anything he says. But talking to it makes him feel more at ease – something talking to another person could never do for him. It’s stupid, it’s not like he could just take it in. At the same time, he does feel a sense of responsibility for the dog who unexpectedly wandered into his life.

His thoughts drift to Akira for a moment.

He’s about to leave when he feels the dog brush against the back of his legs. Just for a second, he sees it wag its tail at him before it disappears into the alley.

“So you do know how to say thank you,” he mutters.

Traffic is as busy as always and his commute to work seems more painful than usual with his thoughts still preoccupied with Akira. He was never the type to listen to music or to read a book in public transport, but now he wishes there was something he could do with his hands. He takes a look around to see what other people are doing. Some businessman is reading a folded newspaper. Two teens chat about their Christmas plans. A middle-aged woman is scrolling through her phone with a worried expression on her face. Akechi decides to go with that. He pulls out his phone and checks his messages – still nothing. Suddenly an announcement rings and all passengers are asked to leave at the next stop.

“Oh, I got a message from Fumi-chan,” he hears one of the teens says. “Her train stopped, too. Supposedly someone committed suicide, isn’t that scary?”

“Well, it happens all the time,” her friend looks unimpressed. “Just wish people were more considerate and offed themselves somewhere that wouldn’t bother anyone else, you know?”

“It would be very considerate of _you_ if you decided to shut the fuck up,” Akechi tells her smiling.

The teen looks dumbfounded and the train stops before she gathers her thoughts. Akechi leaves quickly before anyone decides to comment on his rude behavior.

He feels on edge, even though a part of him feels the same way that she did. It really is inconvenient, and now he’s going to have to tell his boss he would be late after all – which undoubtedly will cause her to give him a lecture that he doesn’t care to hear. He pushes the thought to the back of his head. Something about the news makes him anxious in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time. If it happened any other day, he would pay it no mind. But a voice in his head (suspiciously sounding a lot like Akira) tells him even that might not have been a coincidence.

He leaves the station building. His workplace is not that far off and he could just take a taxi to make it quicker, but it still would be wise to tell his boss about it. He opens his contact list and his heart stops.

There are two contacts on the list. One is his boss, and the other one is simply named Akira Kurusu.

He takes a deep breath. That son of a bitch is going to pay for it, but he does need to call his boss first. He sits down on a bench and chooses her name carefully on the contact list – with how ridiculous things were getting, he doesn’t trust his hands to pick the right number, so for the first time, he’s relieved when he hears her voice on the other side.

“It’s me,” he says without saying hello. “There was an accident, so I’m going to be a little late. I’ll take the taxi to make things faster, though.”

“Fine, I’ll pay you back for it,” she says with a sigh. “With traffic at this hour, you’re going to be more than a little late, though. Now I’ll be late for my meeting, too.”

“Sucks to be you.”

“Not really, those old bats can wait,” she replies unemotionally. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and some of them will actually die before I get there. They are old enough for sure.”

Akechi actually chuckles, feeling some of his earlier agitation leaves his body.

“Oh, did you just laugh? That’s cute. Pretty sure it’s the first time I’ve ever heard you do that.”

“I have to go.” It’s always best to ignore her comments, he finds. “Don’t die waiting for me, old bat.”

“You’re not worth it.”

She hangs up. Akechi snorts, putting the phone back into his pocket before he gets too tempted to call Akira. Maybe he doesn’t despise his boss. They share the same sense of humor, at least.

A taxi ride takes just as long as she predicted it would, leaving Akechi to his own gloomy thoughts. He doesn’t want to call Akira with the driver listening, but maybe he’d be able to call him once he got to work. His fingers hover over the screen for a second. Maybe texting him would be fine for now.

_I don’t know how you guessed my passcode, but you do very little to get me to trust you._

His phone buzzes almost immediately.

_It really took you this long to notice? I used a phone trick on you last time, too. You should know better, technology is your friend._

Akechi closes his eyes for a moment. His boss told him once to count slowly from 1 to 10 and then backward before acting out on someone on the phone. It doesn’t work.

_I used a gun trick on you last time. Maybe this time it will actually work._

Akira doesn’t reply. Fucker.

“We’re here.”

He pays the driver, and with the phone still in his hands, he enters the building. On the elevator ride, he’s still staring at the phone, hoping he could come up with something witty enough to get Akira to reply. The elevator beeps and the door opens as he starts walking towards the office, typing:

_I have to keep wearing turtlenecks because of you._

This should provoke him. As expected, his phone buzzes again.

_Good. I like them on you. I should give you another hickey once this one fades._

Akechi clenches his teeth.

_There won’t be the next time._

_I’m sure._

“Watch it!”

He almost crashes into his boss who sways dangerously in her high heels. She somehow manages to regain her balance, placing one hand on one of the file cabinets.

“I was just about to leave,” she tells him angrily. “But I see you would be happy to see me dead, after all! Do you have any idea how many people die because they text instead of looking up?! Why, just the other day…”

She looks at him and suddenly closes her mouth. Then a smile creeps on her face, one he hasn’t seen on her before, but he already ends up not liking it.

“Why, you should have told me you were messaging your girlfriend.”

Akechi raises an eyebrow at the implication. Then his hand travels to his neck, horrified. He wasn’t wearing a scarf and the turtleneck must have slid down his neck when he wasn’t paying attention. Did he spend the train ride with his neck out like that too?

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he spits. To make things worse, the phone buzzes in his hand again.

“Go on, reply.” She teases with a grin. “You don’t want to keep your lady waiting.”

“ _He_ can rot in his hell for all I care.”

“So it’s a _he_?”

“You’re late for your meeting, _boss_.”

He pushes her out of the door, ignoring her protests, and closes it behind her. If this is what it felt like to have parents, he really wasn’t missing out much. He takes off his jacket and sits behind his desk, closing his eyes. Only after he feels a bit calmer, he looks at his phone again.

_I’m with Sumire. She says hi._

Akechi furrows his eyebrows. He briefly checks his schedule for today, but there isn’t too much to be done for at least another hour. He decides to call Akira.

“I’m glad you finally decided to call me,” Akira’s voice rings in his ear and a wave of relief rushes through Akechi’s body, despite his better judgment.

“I didn’t notice your little trick until this morning,” he replies coldly. “Was it so hard to write down your number on a piece of paper like a normal person?”

“I couldn’t find a pen and you were asleep.”

“So hacking my phone was easier than opening one of my drawers, or better yet, waking me up?”

“You seemed rather exhausted after our night together. For some reason, you’re not mentioning me cleaning you up. I’d be angrier about that part.”

“You’ve seen me naked before, I really don’t care.” Akechi sighs. “More importantly, did you find anything out?”

“I’d contact you if I did.” There’s more seriousness in Akira’s voice now. “Everything seems normal. I asked Sumire too since she was directly involved in what happened at Maruki’s Palace, and she happens to be in Tokyo at the moment. But she doesn’t recall anything strange happening lately.”

“So this Sumire person…”

“No need to pretend you care so little you don’t even remember her name,” Akira laughs. “She would be hurt to hear you say that.”

“If you mentioned having a girlfriend before, then trust me, my Akira Kurusu hard drive has limited space,” Akechi says. “Care to explain to me who she is?”

Akira is silent for a long time.

“This isn’t funny, Akechi,” he says eventually.

“That’s because I’m not trying to be funny,” Akechi feels his frustration grow once again. “Just tell me who she is.”

“You know who she is,” Akira’s voice is really quiet. “Tell me you know who she is.”

“I…”

Akechi tries to recall. But he’s drawing a blank. He tells Akira as much.

“Can you answer a question for me?”

“Apparently I can’t, but try me.”

“How did we find out about Maruki’s palace?”

“You… You got a phone call.”

“From whom?”

“One of your friends?” Akechi groans. “I don’t know, you think I remember after all this time? What does it have to do…”

“This is important,” Akira interrupts him. “Try to remember. I got a phone call and we went to Maruki’s Palace. Who was there with us?”

“We were alone.”

Akira doesn’t speak for so long that Akechi has to check if he hung up.

“Joker?”

No reply.

“Just answer me, dammit.”

He hears Akira take a deep breath.

“We need to meet up.” Akechi can’t help but think that he’s doing his best to sound unemotional. “Where are you now?”

“I’m at work,” Akechi taps the desk impatiently. “So you’re just going to leave me hanging like this without explaining what’s going on?”

“I’m not leaving you hanging, that’s why we have to meet up,” Akira snaps. “What time do you get off? Or better yet, do you get a break? I want to see you sooner rather than later.”

“Kurusu, I swear…”

“At what time?”

Akechi looks through the calendar once more.

“I should be able to leave for a moment around noon. I’ll text you the address of a nearby café.”

“Great. Now listen to me carefully. I need you to trust me and do something for me without asking why. Before I come to see you, I need you to google two names. Write them down now. Kasumi Yoshizawa and her sister, Sumire Yoshizawa. You can look into their father too, maybe this will jog your memory.”

“Jog my memory?”

“Do you remember what I said before? About not knowing when something is missing…?” He stops and Akechi hears distant voices on Akira’s end. “I have to go. See you soon.”

He hangs up.

Akechi sits for a moment staring at his desk, unsure what to do.

What the fuck was that about?

He hates that there’s nothing he can do but follow Akira’s orders. He should be making calls by now, but there’s no way he can focus on doing his job after hearing everything Akira said. Could it be that someone tampered with his memories? And who was this Yoshizawa girl?

He turns on his computer to check out the names mentioned by Akira. He decides to start with Sumire since she was the one to say hi to him, apparently. He sees an unfamiliar face of a girl beaming as she stands on the podium, but it does little to stir his memory. Apparently, she is some sort of gymnast. Akechi doesn’t know much about sports, he only played billiard himself. He clicks on one of the articles. Her sister Kasumi died in a tragic accident a few years ago. There are pictures too, but it doesn’t amount to much since Kasumi looked pretty much like her sister. He sees their father’s name mentioned in the article too, so he googles it as well.

What he doesn’t expect is to see his own name alongside it.

It’s a video from some sort of a morning show he used to show up on when he was still a celebrity. He’s being interviewed by two cheerful journalists. He can’t help but roll his eyes at how stupid it all is. Finally, he sees the name he was looking for – Shinichi Yoshizawa mentioned as the director of the morning show.

Is this why Akira asked him to look into the father too?

Why doesn’t he remember him? Surely, he had to meet him if he took part in one of his shows. If he’s being entirely honest, he doesn’t recall the interview either. He watches it again to be sure. It’s definitely him speaking. And if what Akira said is true, he apparently came to know his daughter too, and she was somehow involved with what happened at Maruki’s Palace.

None of it is _entirely_ unfamiliar either. It’s like having a word stuck on the tip of your tongue – it’s almost there, but not quite. It’s not the same as waking up in Maruki’s reality either. Back then, he simply showed up in a cell unable to recall anything beyond the engine room in Shido’s palace. Some parts were missing, but none of it was… fading. It was almost like having something slip through his fingers before he gets to take a good look at what it was in the first place. He wonders if there’s anything else that he somehow forgot without realizing it. Akira’s voice echoes in his head once again.

_But you wouldn’t know if something was missing, would you?_

He suddenly feels calm. This is just part of an investigation, even if it’s one concerning him. He texts Akira the address of the café and gets on with his schedule, and while on the phone with his boss’ clients, he is a bit more polite than he usually would be. The time passes slowly as he tries to focus on doing his job, and even though he’s not nervous, he keeps one eye on the clock the entire time. Just a little before noon, his boss comes back with fresh remarks about his boyfriend. He rolls his eyes at that, but perhaps, for once he could use it to his advantage. 

“So my _boyfriend_ wants to see me during lunch break,” Akechi forces himself to say. “You said you need me to be here but you’re back, so do you think it’s okay for me to go?”

“You’re weirdly polite,” she looks at him suspiciously. “You normally don’t ask for permission. You may go, just no funny business. Showing up to work after a quickie with your boyfriend is hardly appropriate.”

“We’re just getting coffee,” Akechi says through clenched teeth. “I’ll pass on the quickie.”

“Good boy,” she looks at the clock. “Take your time. I think I need to be alone for a moment, anyway.”

“Did something happen?”

“So we’re doing this now, huh?” She laughs earnestly. “Perhaps I will talk to you about it once you’re back since you’re feeling charitable. Have fun with your boyfriend, don’t mind the old lady.”

Akechi already regrets playing the relationship card, but he nods, hoping that Akira will never find out about it. He leaves the building before his boss decides to add any more comments. 

Akira is already waiting in front of the café. He seems much more casual than the last time Akechi saw him – his jacket is unzipped, a red hoodie underneath it, his jeans are cuffed fashionably, and his black sports shoes match the entire outfit. He looks tired, but he still smiles once he spots Akechi.

“I’d go in, but I wasn’t sure what to get you,” he says, running his fingers through messy curls. Akechi notes that he doesn’t have any visible bruises from their time together.

“Just regular coffee would be fine,” Akechi tells him as they go in. Akira picks his coffee without thinking. Akechi ends up paying for his order as well, doing his best to ignore the funny look the barista sends his way. Akira must have noticed as well, an amused expression on his face. Once they make their order, he kisses Akechi’s cheek before saying:

“I’ll find us a table, _honey_.”

Akechi almost drops his wallet.

After receiving their order, he looks around lamely, feeling like everyone’s eyes are already on him. Once he spies Akira sitting in the far corner of the café, it takes all his patience not to shove the coffee cup in his face.

“Way to steal the show, _Joker_.”

“He was a dick,” Akira shrugs. “I really hoped you’d appreciate it.”

He pauses as Akechi removes his jacket. He reaches out across the table and Akechi freezes for a moment, but all he does is pull the fabric of his turtleneck higher up his neck. His fingers linger for a moment.

“Though I do see _why_ he was staring,” he muses. “Maybe keep your clothing tighter or wear a scarf?”

Akechi swaps Akira’s hand away like an annoying bug, and he rubs his neck uncomfortably. Why did it keep doing that? Or maybe he forgot to fix it in the first place?

“I’m glad this is all amusing to you,” he says bitterly. “But I think we have more pressing matters to discuss.”

Akira immediately stops smiling.

“Right,” he mutters, straightening up in his chair. “So I talked to Morgana and the others to test my own memory. But it doesn’t seem like anything’s missing, including them. It seems highly unlikely that everyone, including Sojirō who’s never been inside the Metaverse, had their memory wiped as well. So I think it’s safe to assume for now that it’s happening uniquely to you.”

“I see,” Akechi rubs his chin, lost in thought. “How much did you tell them?”

“I didn’t tell them about you,” Akira calms him down. “I only told Sumire since I figured… I figured you might want to talk to her. Before you ask, her memories of you don’t seem affected.”

“I don’t think talking to her would change much,” Akechi takes a careful sip of his coffee. “I did as you asked, by the way. I even found an interview from a morning show I did as the Detective Prince. The one directed by Yoshizawa’s father. But even that memory seems to be gone for some reason.”

“We should probably check what other memories might be missing.” Akira looks troubled. “But we’ll need more time than your lunch break.”

“There’s one more other option we can’t ignore,” Akechi says calmly. “It is quite possible that it’s not just my memories that are vanishing from this world. It might be that… I myself am fading, however stupid it sounds. You know. The natural order trying to remind me I’m supposed to be dead.”

Their eyes meet for a moment.

“I thought about it,” Akira admits. “But I think everyone’s memories of you are more or less intact. If you really were fading, wouldn’t you vanish from everyone else’s consciousness too?”

“It might also be my brain finally closing in on itself. My madness was bound to catch up at some point.”

“How are you so calm?” Akira’s shaking his head in disbelief. “This is different than anything we’ve dealt with so far.”

“I don’t particularly care what happens to me,” Akechi states to have the issue out of the way. “I thought I made that clear last time, too. I’d rather vanish than have my memory tampered with by some unknown foe if you ask me.”

“I won’t let you disappear. No matter what it’ll cost me.”

“Ever the self-sacrificing hero,” Akechi chuckles. “Before we go any further, let me ask you this. Is there anything you’re hiding from me? Anything at all, no matter how insignificant. We don’t know what might prove to be important.”

Akira takes a sip of his coffee.

“I wouldn’t call it hiding,” he says eventually. “But maybe there are things I’d rather clarify. When we met a few days ago, I told you I was helping out a friend. Then we went to a bar.”

“I know what happened.”

“Well this bar,” Akira plays with his bangs nervously. “The truth is, I’m the new manager. Well… owner, if things go smoothly.”

“That explains your fancy clothes. And how does someone in their early twenties get a gig like that?”

“You might already know that the neighborhood is gaining popularity,” Akira says and Akechi nods. “This place was bought out by Okumura Foods. Haru thought it might make for a nice coffee shop location, but it seems that the locals already got used to the idea of it being a bar. She was at loss, so she asked me for help out of the blue. The place isn’t exactly… profitable. There’s a lot that still needs to be changed. And if I succeed in turning it around, I might end up being the new owner. I’m thinking of renaming it. Doyle seems like a good name. Can you imagine it? Leblanc and Doyle in the same city.”

He looks excited. It almost makes Akechi smile.

“Not exactly smart of her,” he points out instead. “First she buys it blindly, then drops it all on you, and once it actually becomes profitable, she’s gonna withdraw. Where’s the gain in that?”

“I suppose she just wants to give me a purpose,” Akira plays with the coffee lid to avoid Akechi’s gaze. “Things weren’t exactly working out for me lately. Remember the impasse we talked about?”

“You’re depressed.”

It’s not a question, it’s a statement.

“I don’t know,” Akira sighs. “I might be just a little burnout. It doesn’t matter, really.”

“Something else that you aren’t telling me?”

“Your drink didn’t actually have alcohol in it,” Akira admits with a chuckle. “I thought you’d be able to tell. I wouldn’t put you on the spot like that.”

“I don’t drink much.” This time Akechi allows himself to smile. “So you’re saying I can’t blame my bad decisions on the alcohol?”

“Sorry.”

“Looks like we owe our meeting to Haru’s bad financial decisions.”

“She really is trying hard to make her father proud.”

“Her father…”

There it is. This feeling again. He has it, but it slips right through his fingers.

“I don’t remember her father,” Akechi says calmly.

Akira watches him for a moment. He half expects him to start questioning him, but he just nods.

“Okay,” he clears his throat. “What about Haru? Do you remember her?”

He remembered her just now. But when he _really_ thinks about it, he realizes he can’t recall her face anymore. He tells Akira as much.

“Let me show you a picture.”

He pulls out his phone to show him a group picture of the Ex -Phantom Thieves. A lot of them has changed, he’s not sure if he’d recognize them on the street. But he knows who they are. Except…

“I can’t recognize two of them.”

“Two?”

Akechi nods.

“The fluffy-haired one. And the one wearing glasses.”

“Futaba?” Akira furrows his eyebrows. “We just talked about Futaba two days ago.”

“And I remembered who Haru was until just a few minutes ago. Whatever’s happening to me, it’s growing fast.”

“What about her mother?”

“I… I killed her mother, didn’t I?”

They fall silent.

“This is just a theory,” Akira begins. “But what if you’re slowly forgetting about the murders?”

“Why would that happen?”

“I’m not sure,” Akira shrugs. “But it’s a start.”

“Did I do something to that Yoshizawa girl too?”

“No,” Akira admits. “That’s what bothers me. You cared about her in, well… your own way, I suppose. You refused to fight her because you _didn’t_ want to kill her. Okumura and Wakaba, though… They were alive in Maruki’s reality. You really don’t remember that? You don’t remember…?”

“Killing them?” Akechi finishes. “I _know_ I killed them. I just… I can’t remember it. Does that make sense?”

“Nothing about it makes sense,” Akira laughs sadly. “But that’s memory tampering alright. Though I suppose this explains one more thing. Two days ago, you asked me about what happened after we got separated at Shido’s Palace. Even then, I thought it was a little weird but I decided to let it go. It’s the same question you asked me in Maruki’s reality when you told me you wanted us to cooperate. Do you remember that?”

“What if we’re thinking way too hard about it?” Akechi presses. “Maybe I really am losing my mind. People tend to repress memories that bother them. Or maybe it’s… Maybe it’s something in my brain.”

“You mean like a tumor?” Akira bites his lip. “I mean, it’s… It’s a possibility. I’ll ask a doctor I know to have a look at you. She’s discreet and knows her stuff. It’s been a while since we talked, so it might take me a few days to get her to come here. But she’ll help.”

“Good.”

“While I do think it might be a good idea for her to have a look at you, I must say I don’t really think we’ll find anything unusual. What’s happening to you is too… Elaborate. Memory tampering sounds more probable, however stupid this sounds. But with everything that’s happened to us so far, is this really that big of a stretch? The question is, who would do something like that? And for what purpose?”

“There’s something else on your mind,” Akechi points out. “Just go ahead and say it.”

“Just promise me you won’t get angry,” Akira sighs. “But maybe it’s all… a good thing? If you forget about your past, maybe you… You’ll be able to move on and live a normal life. I know it seems improbable now, and I know you hate the idea of being controlled, but… In your case, ignorance might be a bliss.”

“So you’re saying Maruki was right? You’re having regrets _now_ , Joker?”

“It has nothing to do with Maruki,” Akira says quietly, his eyes focused on the table. “But I also don’t think you’ll ever find peace as you are now.”

“I don’t deserve peace.”

Akira doesn’t look convinced.

“Our sense of justice, our ideals…” He begins. “They might differ. And I’ll never truly forgive you for what you’ve done. But I’ve never thought you deserved death. I want you to live, Akechi.”

“You do realize that if what you’re saying is true, that means I’ll eventually forget about you as well?” Akechi looks him straight in the eyes as he says that. “Are you really okay with that?”

“Yes, I am.”

None of them knows what to say. Deep down, Akechi knows he should get back to work, but something’s keeping him in place, staring uselessly at Akira’s lowered head.

“Maybe you and Maruki really are the same after all. But I’m not Rumi. And you’re not my lover. I’ll get to the bottom of this with or without your help.”

He gets up. Akira looks at him helplessly.

“I will help you,” he promises. “And I swear to never go against your wishes. How I feel about you doesn’t change anything. You’re the leader now. I’ll follow your orders as long as you’ll have me.”

“Don’t look at me like that,” Akechi spits. “Don’t look at me like you pity me and then say… all of that.”

“I don’t pity you. I just want you to be okay. Whatever _okay_ means in your case. Just promise me you’ll really think about what I said so far. We don’t know what’s going on, but… Just this once, think about what’s good for you.”

“I’m not you. I’m not some self-sacrificing idiot with a Messiah complex. I just don’t think that me being okay will ever be an option.”

“Maybe you’re right. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

They part ways soon after that, leaving Akechi to face his boss and her teasing about his prolonged date with his ‘boyfriend’. He sits down at his desk, waiting for questions to come, but he’s pleased to find out that none come. His boss seems a little out of it, if anything, staring out the window rather than focusing on her computer the way she usually does. Suddenly, he remembers there was something she wanted to talk to him about.

“Did one of the bats croak after all?” He jokes, hoping to catch her attention. She looks at him, clearly distracted, and to his surprise smiles a bit sadly.

“No, it’s my husband,” she says playing with her wedding band. “He was taken to the hospital this morning, and I’m afraid he’s not long for this world.”

Shit.

“I’m…”

“Don’t say you’re sorry, it’s not your style. I don’t need your pity.”

“I am sorry, though. And I don’t pity you.”

She studies him for a moment. Something about that gaze feels like being x-rayed right to the depths of his soul.

“You’ve changed,” she comments. “I don’t know what happened, but your eyes… They look different. I heard you laugh this morning, then when you were texting your boyfriend you were smiling… I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without that scowl on your face either. And now you’re _genuinely_ sorry. That boyfriend, is he good for you?”

“He’s a good person.”

He can’t bring himself to correct her. She looks relieved.

“Good. Hold on to that. The good ones are never here for a long time, I’m afraid. It’s only scum like you and me that survive.”

She tells him to go home soon after.

* * *

Akira gets him a visit with Doctor Takemi, just like he promised. She’s a weird one, nothing short of what he’d expect of Akira’s acquaintance. She talks to him for a long time and runs all sorts of tests that end up taking most of the day. In the end, however, Akira was right. There was no visible change in his body that could justify memory loss.

On his way back home, he calls Akira to pass him the good news, but neither of them knows whether they should feel relieved or not.

“I’ll stop by tomorrow,” Akira tells him, his voice tinted with a hint of worry. “We need to check if your memory’s getting worse. I won’t stay the night unless you want me to, though.”

“I don’t care either way.”

“Even if things end up… Unprofessional?”

“There’s nothing professional about our relationship,” Akechi snorts. “I thought that was already established.”

“So you don’t regret it? What happened back then?”

It’s a question Akechi’s been asking himself a lot as well.

“I’m a big boy, Joker. We’re both adults, we want things that adults do. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Even if I said I wanted these things from you long before all of this happened?”

“How long?”

“ _Long._ ”

“Stop with the footsie.”

“It was hard for me not to kiss you after every night we spent together at that jazz club,” Akira admits bitterly. “I imagined… stuff. Not just innocent stuff. That evening when we fought in Mementos, it took all my will power not to take you right there.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Would you have let me?”

“Probably not,” Akechi admits. “I guess I never tried to name all these feelings I felt towards you ever since we met. I thought I hated you and maybe I still do, but… I’m not one to regret something once I do it. I told you already, this isn’t high school.”

“I just needed to get it off my chest,” Akira hums. “If we’re to trust each other, you should know about my bias. I’m not saying you should reciprocate my feelings. But at the same time, you should know that what I feel for you is a bit more complicated than what you might be feeling for me. You’re my weakness, in a way.”

“Are you going to be okay?” Akechi asks seriously. “I need your honesty. I need to know that if we do something that’s meaningless to me, it won’t break your heart. I need you to be capable here.”

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me. How are you feeling?”

“Normal,” Akechi sighs. “My memory isn’t back if that’s what you’re asking. So far, I haven’t forgotten about you either, which I guess is a good thing.”

Akira’s silent for a moment.

“You asked me before if there’s anything I’m hiding from you and I gave you nothing but honesty. Can I expect the same from you? Would you tell me if there was something wrong?”

“You’re doubting me?”

“Please. Trust goes both ways.”

“It’s not entirely meaningless to me,” Akechi says. “And it’s not trivial, either. You’re the closest I’ve ever had to a friend. You’re my rival, you’re my enemy, and somehow… You’re that too. And those things you’ve been thinking about… Maybe I’ve thought about them, too. Just a bit.”

He hears a sharp intake of breath on Akira’s end.

“I want to kiss you now.”

“That’s probably impossible.”

“I know,” Akira laughs and Akechi thinks that for the first time he sounds happy. “But I will tomorrow. If you let me.”

“Are you being bashful? Cause I think we’ve crossed that bridge a few days ago.”

“I want to fuck your brains out to make sure you’ll never forget me. There, is that better?”

“As if I’d be able to forget you after a cheesy line like that.”

He won’t admit it, but he feels something swell in his chest when Akira’s laugh rings in his ear once again. Just for a moment, things really are _okay_.

He passes next to the small alley and he feels familiar eyes watching him, making him stop in his step. Except this time, there’s more than one pair of eyes staring at him.

“Hold on a second.”

Akechi walks into the alley, and true enough three puppies are playing near the abandoned bathhouse, as their mother wags her tail at him.

“Is this why you were so wary?” Akechi asks her, smiling faintly. When he comes closer, she moves to meet his hand, so he removes his glove to feel the soft fur on his skin. She barks happily.

“Is this a dog I’m hearing? Where the hell are you?”

“You’re a cat person, I’m a dog person,” Akechi muses. “Sadly, I can’t keep one in my apartment.”

He hesitates for a moment.

“Say, do you know if one of your many _acquaintances_ would care to adopt a puppy?”

* * *

When he shows up for work the following day, his boss is already there, packing her stuff. She almost doesn’t notice him, and if she does, she doesn’t acknowledge it. He clears his throat. Nothing.

“Are we moving?” He decides to ask.

She looks at him long and hard.

“Sit down, Goro.”

His heart stops. It wasn’t the name he was hired under, so she must have figured it out. He tries to calm down. It wasn’t hard after all, he used to be a celebrity. It had to be it.

“So you knew all this time,” he says calmly. “And you still hired me.”

“You’re quitting today,” she says in a strange voice. “And no, I’m not firing you. My husband is dying, and since I decided to retire I need you to find yourself a new job. That’s all.”

“That’s all? If you know who I am, then you know…”

“Silly, it’s because I knew who you were that I hired you.” She sits down across from him. “Come on, you’re not dense. Put the pieces of the puzzle together. Use those detective skills of yours.”

Akechi observes her for a moment. She looks tired and a little annoyed, but he can’t bring himself to find her dangerous, no matter how much she knows.

“You know who I am, and you knew it when you hired me,” he confirms. She nods. “Yet, you kept up the charade and had me run the most basic tasks. Essentially, you paid me a crazy amount of money just to be here. It wasn’t boredom or loneliness, though. There was something else.”

“Go on.”

“The government told you who I am and you were told to hire me. To spy on me, perhaps? No, there’s more than that. You held a personal interest in me, and I can only think of a few reasons why that might be – you’re either my psycho-fan which I honestly don’t think you are or… Why there’s always revenge. Revenge seems to be the most common reason why people do things after all. So who was this that I killed? Your lover? Brother?”

“My son,” she corrects him. “He died in the subway incident a few years ago. The one I was told you were responsible for. And you’re wrong about one more thing – the government didn’t tell me to hire you. The truth is, they don’t give a shit about what happens to you. Once you stopped being useful, they planned to throw you back into your cell. Do you really think they care about some promise they made to a teenage murderer? My husband is… _Was_ involved in your case. One night he had too much to drink and told me all about you. I didn’t understand much. Something called Metaverse? And then Phantom Thieves and a change of a heart? A load of crap. But I knew he wasn’t lying. He was ever the rational one, he didn’t even care that you… That you killed our child. So I started digging. I hired a private detective and found out about your past, even about your mother. Shido was your father, wasn’t he?”

“Is it that easy to figure out?”

“As you’ve said, people tend to do things mostly out of revenge. You jumped on the first occasion to drag Shido down. It fits.”

“So giving me money counts as revenge in your book?”

“Don’t be stupid,” she snorts. “Think about it, I _own_ your life. I’m the one who enrolled you for university. I paid for it. I’m the one who’s been paying for your apartment. I’m the one who pays for your food, your clothes, your bills since I also sign your paychecks. I’m the one who _allows_ you to be alive. I know you, Goro Akechi. About your boyfriend, too. You make quite a pair – ex-leader of the Phantom Thieves and the Detective Prince. Charming. As you probably realize, you’re not the only hitman that’s out there. I could have you, and him, and everyone he loves murdered tonight.”

Despite her saying that Akechi doesn’t feel like he’s in any danger.

“But you’re not planning to do that,” he points out. “Instead, we’re having a casual conversation as I watch you pack your shit.”

“You hate being controlled. You hate this job, you hate this city, you hate yourself. Watching you being miserable… It really was satisfying. I was amused… for a while.”

She closes her eyes for a moment.

“My husband could be dying as we speak. And I just… I don’t feel like any of it has meaning anymore. He’s my soulmate and he’ll be gone soon. My child is gone. And you… I guess, instead of hating you I ended up replacing my son with a murderer like you. What kind of person does that make me?”

“A scum one, like you said. We’re both scums after all. But then again… It is very human.”

She considers his words for a moment.

“Both of us dedicated our lives to petty revenge. We’re both empty. We’re barely alive. And yet, something has changed for you recently. Could you tell me what it is? You owe me at least as much.”

“I guess I just…”

Akira’s laugh rings through his ears.

“I dared to hope that things might turn out okay.”

“Things might turn out okay…” She echoes. “Very well. One last thing then. You were planning to run away, weren’t you?”

“How did you know?”

“You’re not as sneaky as you wish to be.” She comes closer, brushing his bangs away to look him straight in the eyes. “Do you believe in fate?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Funny,” her hand hesitates, and then she pets his hair, almost involuntarily. “That new haircut… You made it sound like you did it just for me to leave you alone. But you hoped you wouldn’t be recognized. You planned on leaving everything behind.”

She lets him go. She grabs her bag from her desk and takes one last look at him from the doorway.

“This haircut… You look just like my son.”

She pauses.

”Don’t ever _forget_ about how many lives you’ve ruined.”

He can still feel her perfume in the air, long after she’s gone.

* * *

“So you think it was her?”

Akira’s sitting on the floor of his apartment as Akechi packs his stuff. There isn’t a lot that he owns, so it only takes him maybe half an hour to have most of his things packed in a cardboard box that Akira brought from the bar.

“I don’t know,” Akechi says honestly. “It wouldn’t make a lot of sense considering that she wanted me to remember. Besides, she’s… She’s smart and she outwitted me. I give her that. But there isn’t anything special about her as far as I can tell. She didn’t seem to know much about Metaverse either.”

“Then we’re back to square one.”

“There’s one more thing,” Akechi sits down next to Akira. “When she mentioned my mother… I realized I can’t remember her face anymore. Or… anything about her.”

“So our victim theory is out the window.”

“I suppose.”

Akechi moves to sit down in front of Akira, rather than next to him.

“I want to show you something.”

Akira nods and slowly, Akechi takes off his shirt, his eyes fixed on Akira’s. He sees them widen in shock.

“That’s…”

There’s a scar on Akechi’s chest. It’s faded but impossibly placed right over his heart. His eyes fall to the floor.

“Say something,” Akechi asks quietly. “How about ‘Huh, Akechi, so you do have a heart after all!’. Though perhaps, the fact I’m still alive is proof I never had one, to begin with.”

“I can’t believe you lied to me again.”

“I didn’t lie to you.”

“This is important. You asked me to be honest, and you deliberately hid it from me for days.”

“Fine, so I did lie to you,” Akechi rolled his eyes. “Did you expect me to strip the moment you entered my apartment? Besides, it hardly matters. This doesn’t bring us any closer to the truth. If anything, it just makes things more confusing.”

Akira traces over the edges of the scar with a worried look on his face.

“This looks… You were shot.”

“I’m well aware of what a gunshot looks like. I was shot, but you already knew as much, you’ve been there. You heard it happen.”

“How…”

“I don’t know,” he sighs. “As I said, I have no heart.”

“This isn’t funny. I’ve always known you had a heart, _Goro_.”

Akechi shivers at the use of his first name, but he doesn’t comment on it. He’s not sure if he likes it. Part of him wants to scold Akira and wipe that stupid smile off his face, while the other wants to do everything to ruin the moment.

“Despite everything I said?” He insists. “About killing those people, killing you… You’d still claim I have a heart?”

He can’t help but smile.

“You really are a sentimental fool,” he decides.

Akira presses his hand against Akechi’s scar, cocking his head to the side.

“I don’t know. I can hear your heartbeat. It’s a bit faster now. Not even you can control your own heart, after all. So who exactly is the fool here?”

“Kissing you is enough proof that I am a fool,” Akechi remarks, and yet he kisses Akira again. Akira’s hand is still pressed against his heart, so he takes him by the wrist and places it in his hair instead. Akira complies, grabbing a fistful of Akechi’s short hair and tugging on it until he has Akechi moaning and gasping under him.

“Detective Prince is losing his cool,” he can sense Akira’s smirk but he doesn’t dare to open his eyes. If he did, he’d have to face Akira’s gentle eyes. He’d say something he’d regret. He’d have to walk out the door and never come back. Part of him wonders why he still hasn’t done just that.

“Stop being cocky and give me some proof I’m not wasting my time here with you,” Akechi says instead. They strip each other, walking backwards towards the bedroom.

_Give me a reason to stay._

He expects another witty remark, but Akira decides to use his mouth for something else entirely. It catches him off guard because of course, it does, despite the two of them being all but naked anyway. He still hasn’t figured out why Akira’s doing this. His paranoid brain searches for any excuse, even as silly and dramatic as _Maybe he’s pranking me, and then he’ll laugh it all off with his friends._

 _No. Akira would never do that._

What is this feeling? Was he really foolish enough to finally trust someone? He had to learn to trust Akira during their battle against Maruki, he rationalizes. It’s not like this is any different. Besides, it wasn’t special. He never cared much about sex, he was too busy sacrificing his life for the sake of revenge against Shido to form any relationship. And his career as a celebrity detective successfully stopped him from risking it.

But there was something else, wasn’t there? Back then, he didn’t actually want these things. He didn’t care about boys and girls his age. He didn’t care about anything other than his self-destructive plan… Until he met Akira. Even then, he only wanted him out of his way. He was a salty reminder that despite his efforts, Akechi was still less than him. _Some trash_ from nowhere that slept in a dumpster of an attic. He should have stayed in whatever side of the road loser small town he came from. He didn’t deserve his friends, he didn’t deserve to be called a hero, he didn’t deserve to fight Shido.

Those were the kind of things he felt back then. And yet, he can’t seem to find his old anger.

“I can hear you thinking,” Akira moves away, his eyes a little unfocused. “Are you really okay with us doing this?”

“I thought you were mad at me,” Akechi gasps as Akira pulls his boxers down. He decides not to think anymore.

“I am mad,” Akira says. “And I’ll have my revenge soon enough.”

It’s oddly satisfying to see Akira on his knees for him. He starts slow, licking over the head of his cock, his warm tongue being a bit too much for Akechi already. He moves one of his hands to touch Akira’s soft hair, but he quickly slaps it away.

“It wouldn’t be much of revenge if I’d let you touch me,” Akira points out politely. “Maybe next time I’ll let you use me however you want. But for now, you’ll just have to take this.”

He puts Akechi’s cock in his mouth this time, his head bobbing up and down as he hums around it. Akechi hates how he almost comes just from that, but he can’t look away from Akira’s face, his red mouth stretched around his cock, and his pretty eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks. He pulls back a bit and flicks his tongue over Akechi’s slit and Akechi can’t help but think it’s not the first time he’s doing this – he continues to take him further down his throat until his nose reaches Akechi’s pubic hair as he breathes calmly through his nose. Akechi can’t help but jolt his hips and Akira moans, the vibration of it is almost too much. He pulls away, focusing his attention back on the head of Akechi’s dick sucking it in quick pulses, and one of his hands reaching to play with his balls. Akechi’s openly moaning by then, doing his best not to thrust his hips since for some reason he’s sure it would make Akira stop.

“I’m close,” he warns him, wanting nothing more than to come all over Akira’s face.

Akira hums and takes him in again, as deep as possible before pulling back, his lips letting go of his dick with a wet pop. He kisses the head of his cock once again before getting up from his knees.

“I really do hate your guts,” Akechi groans as Akira kisses him, wet and open. He hates that he can still taste his own precum on Akira’s tongue.

“I’m not done with my revenge just yet,” Akira chuckles. “I want you on your hands and knees. Unless you want our night to end here.”

“So you had that side of you hidden all along,” Akechi sucks on Akira’s lip again, pulling at it with his teeth. Akira groans. “Very well.”

He says that but he still feels vulnerable when he lies down on the bed with his ass in the air, not knowing what Akira’s doing behind him. He resists the urge to grind against the bedsheets and lets Akira spread his legs a bit, and he hears a sound of Akira flipping the cap of lube somewhere behind him.

“You came prepared?”

“You did make your wishes rather clear when we were on the phone,” Akira squeezes lube on his fingers generously. “Having a change of heart?”

“Just get on with it. You’re enjoying yourself way too much.”

“I’m about to.”

It’s been a while since Akechi’s done it to himself, so even one finger feels a little weird at first. He can feel his muscles resist the intrusion as he forces himself to breathe and relax. Akira’s other hand is on his ass, spreading him open and he can feel his mouth trace wet patterns over his ass cheek. He sucks on his flesh, letting his teeth graze over it and Akechi moans, thrusting his hips back on his finger involuntarily.

“You really do enjoy marking me.”

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” Akira adds more lube as he pushes a second finger alongside the first. “Your ass looked so good in your costume.”

“Which one?”

“Both.”

Akira curls his fingers just at the right spot and Akechi sees stars for a moment.

“I loved watching you get knocked down by an enemy. You probably thought I just liked seeing you get beaten up. But really it was just an excuse to stare at your ass.”

“I, ah… I always knew your eyes lingered.”

Akira takes his time with him, his fingers scissoring and stretching him patiently until Akechi all but begs for the third finger. He might act cocky, but he’s actually very careful, listening intently for any sound of discomfort Akechi might make. He finds his prostate with ease, his long fingers brushing over it whenever Akechi’s least expecting it. He could probably come just from this, he realizes. But he really doesn’t want things to end here.

“Joker, please…” He groans. He might beg, but he still can’t make himself say his name. “I’m ready.”

Akira’s fingers pull back immediately with a wet sound, his asshole feeling empty now without anything inside it. He’s never felt so vulnerable and yet so safe at the same time. He _trusts_ Akira, he realizes. Some pathetic part of him knows he’d let him do just about anything if he asked. Akira starts leaving kisses along his spine until he reaches Akechi’s ear to whisper:

“Last chance if you want things to end here.”

“Do you really think I want to end this after everything I let you do so far?” Akechi all but laughs breathlessly into his pillow.

“I see.” He can sense Akira smiling. “In that case, please open this. With your teeth, if you will.”

He lets Akira shove the foil into his mouth and he gets rid of the wrapping with ease. He can hear wet sounds of Akira stroking himself somewhere behind him, driving him insane.

“A part of me wants to just come all over your back,” Akira admits. “But we already got this far… Would be a waste of how loose you are for me now.”

“Is this what you get off to?” Akechi all but snarls. “Making people come with your voice alone?”

“That depends. Is it working?”

“ _Akira_ ,” he groans. “Please.”

“Sorry, I just really wanted to hear you say it.”

He rolls the condom on his cock, making sure he’s lubed up properly before entering him. Akechi grabs the sheets at the stretch, knowing he’d rather die than say he’s uncomfortable. But Akira understands him without a word. He’s slow and patient, just like he has been when stretching him, his chest pressed against Akechi’s back and his mouth kissing his exposed shoulder.

“You’re so _tight,_ holy shit.”

He doesn’t want to say he’s never gone this far with anyone but Akira. He thinks Akira knows anyway, but they decide not to address it. Saying it out loud would only make him feel more vulnerable. While the position isn’t the most comfortable, he wouldn’t want it any other way. He’s not ready for Akira to see his face. Akira’s always been able to read him like an open book, and some emotions he still wasn’t ready to name were the last thing he wanted him to see.

Akira doesn’t stop until he’s fully inside Akechi. Only then does he take a deep breath. He turns Akechi’s face to kiss the corner of his mouth, his body shaking like a leaf.

“I’ve never expected things to be so overwhelming,” he admits, laughing quietly. “Is it good for you?”

“ _Move_ and we’ll find out.”

Akira does just that, keeping his pace slow and steady. He knows Akira must have done this before, and yet, he knows Akira isn’t lying – it does feel good, but there’s something more, something neither of them could name even if they tried. He’s completely relaxed now, his body accepting Akira with ease, meeting his thrusts with the bed creaking under their combined strength. Akira grabs him by the arms at some point, pulling him back into an upright position and Akechi can’t stop speaking nonsense that he doesn’t dare to repeat even in his own head, as Akira’s thrusts get shallower inside him. They’re both close and he could probably come just from having Akira inside him, but he wants to come from his hand, and he probably says so out loud, since Akira’s hand is immediately on him and he comes embarrassingly fast with Akira’s name still on his lips. Akira follows shortly after and they both collapse on the bed, Akira gently pulling out of Akechi’s abused ass.

He wants to get up, but Akechi’s arm stops him.

“Just leave it on the floor or whatever, I really don’t care. I’ll clean up later.”

Akira nods and gasps in surprise as Akechi kisses him hard and lingering, their bodies tangled up in a mess of limbs between the sheets. Akechi doesn’t remember the last time he felt so exhausted, both physically and emotionally. He needs something from Akira, and yet he can’t tell what it is. He feels split open, his feelings completely out and open for Akira to see.

“I don’t know what I want,” he admits helplessly. “And I don’t even know what kind of things I’m supposed to want.”

Akira studies his face for a long time with an unreadable expression.

“I think for now… You just want to be held.”

He lets Akira’s arms embrace him. He lets himself be okay.  
  


* * *

  
He’s back in the dark corridor again, but once again, something is different.

He feels a draft and his body actually feels cold for once. He’s getting closer. After all these years, he’s almost at the end.

He starts running and after a while he sees a small light, growing bigger and bigger with every second. He sees a door, somehow familiar, and he almost drops on his knees as his fingers finally reach the doorknob. He opens it with ease and to his surprise, finds himself in Leblanc.

The lights are out and there’s no one inside.

He takes a look around just to make sure, and suddenly something tells him to take his usual seat at the stool. Just like that, the lights turn on. He sees the familiar scenery more clearly now, yet it feels off. It’s not just because Akira isn’t here. Finally, he spies the odd element. In the right corner, where _Sayuri_ was normally hanging, he sees an unfamiliar painting. It’s abstract and he can’t really tell what it is. It looks a bit like a supernova, but something tells him he’s wrong. He still isn’t able to put his finger on it.

There’s a knock on the door. He’s not scared, he’s been expecting it.

“Come in.”

The door opens and a little girl comes in. He’s never seen her before. She’s wearing a blue dress and a matching headband with a butterfly. Under her arm, she’s carrying a heavy-looking book, but he can’t decipher the title from the cover.

“Greetings,” she says with a small bow. “My name is Lavenza. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”

“I’d introduce myself, but something tells me you already know who I am.”

She smiles.

“That is correct. May I sit with you?”

He nods and she thanks him politely, as she climbs the stool next to him.

“So we’re at Leblanc,” she says taking a look around. “Interesting. I wasn’t sure what I was going to see. But first, do you mind cooking something for me? There’s food in the fridge.”

He doesn’t know why he agrees, but he does. His body moves on its own, his legs carrying him to the kitchen, despite never having set his foot there before. He takes a curious look inside the fridge and finds his own groceries from the time he first saw Akira on the street.

“Oh, that’s right, these are yours,” Lavenza says. “I allowed myself to pick them up after you dropped them. Would be a waste, don’t you think? I’m sorry if I startled you that day. I asked my older sister to drive me there since I knew something _important_ was about to happen. And I was right, wasn’t I?”

Akechi takes some of the ingredients. He decides to make an omelet.

“So it was you who set up that meeting?”

“No,” she shakes her small head. “ _We_ can’t intervene. We merely help the ones we call Wildcards. Some of us get more involved than others, and for that, we pay a terrible price. This here is not my doing either. Your own heart reached out to this place.”

“Is this the Velvet Room?”

He remembers Akira mention the name to him.

“Not exactly. I’m afraid you wouldn’t be allowed in. But similar to the Velvet Room, this place is tucked away somewhere between dreams and reality. It’s a world within your heart.”

“My heart is… Leblanc?”

“I think it’s the waiting room,” she corrects him again. “What’s truly important is upstairs.”

“The attic?”

“Don’t think of it as the exact replica of Leblanc.” He notices her eyes move towards the painting. “It’s a reflection. What’s upstairs might be something else entirely. I won’t be allowed in there though.”

He pulls out a pan and starts frying the ingredients.

“So you wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with my memories vanishing?”

“No. But I can tell you about my suspicions. However, you’ll just have to accept that everything I’m about to tell you is just a theory, I can’t know anything for sure. We’re observers, not oracles.”

He waits for her to elaborate.

“As I already said, this is a world within your heart. If my guess is correct, what’s happening to you is your own doing. It makes sense, don’t you think? You, too, are a Trickster. Your role was different from Akira’s, but fate considers you special. You’re scowling because you dislike the very notion of fate. But think about it again. There have been many gods trying to bring ruin to this world. And there probably will be more in the future. All of them were brought by humanity’s desires – you all control your own fate and thus, even God of Control is born out of necessity. A being such as this would not exist if it wasn’t for humanity. That’s why all of you are still in control. It’s your choice to give it up. Naturally, it’s hard to accept. Wildcards are born out of necessity, too. It’s a human thing to rebel. And right now, your heart rebels as well. Some beings, like Morgana, are born out of human hope. Hopes and desires… They’re the very things that make one human. It’s why we’re not allowed to feel those things. We’re not human after all.”

He finishes making an omelet and leaves the plate in front of her. If she doesn’t like it, she doesn’t let it show, eating every last bit. He feels weird watching her from Akira’s usual spot.

Suddenly, he feels a chill and he looks at the door. He sees snowflakes gust against the windowpane without stopping. There’s nothing but darkness otherwise.

“Guests of the Velvet Room are required to form bonds.” Lavenza’s voice echoes again. “It’s through the power of those bonds that they gain access to immense power. Thus, you could never enter the Velvet Room. You never formed any bonds. I think Akira explained as much to you as well.”

Akechi nods.

“You felt no love. There was nothing but hatred, hunger, and loss consuming you from the start. And so your other Persona was born, the one you called Loki. Your heart was broken. It almost got lost. But then, unexpectedly it formed a bond. That in itself almost brought it to ruin. It’s not easy to repair a heart. Some say even impossible. But when two Wildcards met, even fate itself bowed down in defeat. Your heart began to open up once more. You were one of Akira’s closest confidants, yet unbeknownst to all of us, he became yours as well. Your heart began to truly rebel. And when a Wildcard’s heart rebels, strange powers awaken. So first, your heart needed to reach out to his. Do you know when that happened?”

Akechi touches his chest, right over the scar.

“Our promise…” He recalls the glove. “I completely forgot about it.”

“Even if you forgot, your heart never did. You two formed a pact. It binds your fates together, but the key part is that it came out of your own free will. Fate merely obeyed your wishes. If I understand things correctly, it might be why you’re still alive. It’s not just for Akira’s sake, his own will wouldn’t be enough. No, it takes two Tricksters to perform a miracle such as this.”

“How does it connect to my memories?”

“You formed a bond. Something you weren’t supposed to be able to do. It wasn’t the only bond you made, either. These bonds, even the weakest, brought chaos into your heart. It desperately tried to learn what it never got to feel.”

Other bonds? He thinks about Yoshizawa, her face is suddenly clear as day. He thinks about Akira, the old lady at the shop, the dog in the alley, and finally, his boss and her son.

“You opened up to them and somehow, they ended up opening up to you. It doesn’t take a huge act. It might be feeding someone who’s hungry. It might be buying a piece of chocolate. It might be hearing someone tell you their darkest secret so that you carry the burden together. It might be a simple handshake. The more bonds you formed, the more your heart rebelled. The guilt it felt due to its terrible deeds was unbearable. And so, slowly, your memories began to vanish. If you’d let it continue, you’d be nothing but an empty shell.”

The sound of falling snow gets so loud it almost sounds like it’s hailing. He keeps his eyes fixed on Lavenza.

“But as I’ve said… It takes two Tricksters to perform such a miracle. You accepted Akira’s help. You let your anger transform into love, even if you couldn’t recognize it yourself. You started to feel calm. You felt safe. And so your heart took that last leap of fate and brought you here. And thus, once again my Trickster, you will decide your own fate.”

“What do I have to do?”

“It’s your world so I can’t say I understand things fully.” She looks a bit troubled. “But I can only see three options. You can go back where you came from and let your heart fall into ruin. You won’t feel pain and you’ll sever the bonds you managed to form with anyone in your life.”

“And the other options?”

“You can go upstairs. But even I’m not able to tell what’s going to happen if you do. If only Master could be here, perhaps he would know more… Alas, I don’t think it would be wise of him to come.”

They fall silent. Akechi looks at the painting. He can slowly feel his memories return and he grips the counter, feeling his heart almost bursting in pain.

“It hurts.”

“Yes,” Lavenza looks at him sadly. “I imagined it would. Living really is painful.”

“So why should I do it? Why should I go upstairs?”

“Forgive me for being noisy. But I have observed you for a long time and I know you wanted to leave. That desire to escape was brought about by a change of heart, one you inflicted upon yourself. Your body, as we speak, experiences a mental shutdown. What you feel is the very same thing you inflicted upon others. Such is the punishment of your own heart. Normally, you wouldn’t be given a choice. Your mind chose to erase your memories to make the pain a bit more bearable… But if you refuse to act now, your body will give in. Whatever you choose now, you won’t be in pain. And so, we get a third option. Right now in the real world, you’re asleep. You can wake up without choosing either path. Only then you’ll experience the pain you’re feeling now. So once again… To go upstairs is to accept the unknown. To go outside is to take the easier path without pain – but you can never regain your memories. You’ll forget pretty much everything that makes you _you_. And it goes without saying, you’ll forget Akira as well. Wake up now, and experience the mental shutdown. In simpler words, you’ll die.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that.

“Humans cannot live alone. I know you perceive the bonds as something that drags you down. The Velvet Room to Akira appeared as a prison, did you know? This was his own perception of society. The shackles of it are especially hard on a Wildcard. And someone like you… You’re suffering. You see everyone as an enemy. You perceive kindness as pity. You won’t let anyone get close, just like that poor dog in the alley. You feel like everyone’s puppet. But it’s your own twisted perception that holds you, hostage. But things worked out now. No one’s out there to hurt you. All you can do is live and repent for your sins. That’s my opinion.”

“How did you find this place anyway?”

“The wings you heard?” Lavenza smiles gently. “It was me trying to help your heart lead you here. You’re not my guest, but I do care about you. That’s another bond you just made, even if your mind will not remember it once you wake up. We’ll never see each other again, no matter what you choose. This is the power of human bonds – you might be far away, your paths might stray for a while. But bonds give you the freedom to move on. You may be able to form new bonds, and it doesn’t mean the old ones will vanish. You’ll always be connected. Even if your memory fails you, they’ll always be here.”

Lavenza jumps off the stool and goes behind the counter to stand in front of him. She takes his hands into her own, smiling. Somehow it helps to elevate his pain.

“It truly is a shame,” she whispers. “Personally, I think you’d be the most interesting guest. The snow is stronger – the time has come for me to leave you to your decision. I won’t be here to escort you upstairs. It’s a choice you need to make on your own. As my parting words, let me paraphrase something you once said. People do a lot of things out of revenge. Those were your words to that poor woman. But they do a lot of things out of kindness, too. Please remember that.”

She lets go of his hands and bows to him once more.

“Thank you for hearing me out. It really has been a pleasure.”

“Wait.”

He can barely breathe. The pain is almost blinding now, but her figure is still bright and clear in front of him.

“The other day on the train… Someone committed suicide. Is this connected to everything that’s happening to me?”

She cocks her head in her surprise.

“Sometimes things happen as a whim of fate,” she replies simply. “Please take some rest now.”

She vanishes.

He doesn’t know what to do. A part of him lingers to go outside and feel the cold snow melt on his face. He wants to fall asleep with it covering his unconscious body.

And yet, somehow, with the strength he never knew he had, he makes his way upstairs. With each step, the pain grows stronger and his body grows heavier. He feels as if his head is about to split open – he can’t stop seeing the dead bodies, the faces of people he once knew, everything and everyone that’s ever brought him pain, as well as the ones he hurt himself.

And yet he moves forward. Slowly, but surely, he climbs the stairs into the unknown.

He finds himself in his old room.

The pain vanishes. He looks at his own hands and finds them to be a lot smaller. To his surprise, he realizes he’s back to being a child.

He recognizes the place. It’s an old room his mom used to rent out right next to the bathhouse. There isn’t much in it. A kotatsu, two futons rolled somewhere in the corner, a kitchenette.

There’s something lying on the top of the kotatsu.

He gets closer to find a letter and an awkwardly wrapped gift. No doubt the work of his mother. He remembers it now. His mother forgot about his birthday and when he confronted her about it, she ended up yelling and then left him all alone. The next day he woke up to this on the table. His mother was gone. He remembers he was so angry that he threw away both the gift and the letter without reading it.

Two days after, he found out about her suicide.

He decides to open the letter this time.

_Goro,_

_I’m sorry I forgot about your birthday. Mommy’s been very busy lately, but she loves you a lot. I hope this gift makes up (at least a little) for all the disappointment I have caused you. You’re a good boy and you deserve a much better mother than the one you got. I’m sure you’ll grow into a fine person even if I won’t be around to see it. Are you still angry? I had to go to work, so I’ll see you tomorrow. I hope you like your gift. Happy birthday, my little hero._

_Love always,_

_Mom_

He opens the gift with his shaking hands. It’s a Featherman lunchbox. There’s another note from his mom.

_Maybe when I’m back I’ll make you a bento? Will you help mommy out? I’m so hopeless without you._

That’s all it says.

His vision blurs and he starts crying, clutching the box against his chest. He’d never cried after she died but this time he’s all alone and no one can see him. He screams his throat raw and cries until he’s all but empty inside. He cries until all the hatred and anger leave his body alongside the tears. He cries until it’s just him sobbing, his body unable to let out to produce any more sounds.

He cries himself awake.

There are warm hands on his hands and he blinks, surprised to see Akira staring back at him. He looks worried and Akechi slowly realizes he’s back in his own bed. The dream he had escapes so fast he can’t even recall a gist of it. His chest feels surprisingly light and his eyes are still wet.

“Goro,” Akira wipes his tears with his thumbs. “What…”

“I don’t… I don’t know…”

He laughs. He laughs as if he never laughed before. He laughs even harder when Akira looks downright terrified, staring back at him. He probably thinks he’s losing his mind, and perhaps he is.

“Is… Is your memory back?” Akira asks suspiciously. Akechi nods, still laughing. Akira lets out a sigh of relief and he lets his forehead drop against his.

“You idiot. I thought I lost you. You wouldn’t wake up even with me shaking you, and then all of a sudden you started crying and I…”

“Did you try to slap me awake?”

Akira kisses him, full of passion, and just for once, Akechi lets himself be loved as he kisses Akira back.

“No. After all, I’m not you.”

“Because you love me?”

“Yes,” Akira gives him a soft look. “Because I love you.”

* * *

A few weeks pass. He ends up moving in with Akira, having no other place to go. They fall into a comfortable routine. Things aren’t easy, at first. After all, a change of heart takes time.

Some nights are harder than others.

When he wakes up, there’s a familiar warmth pressing against his back. He tries to remember when was the last time he’d shared a bed with someone but he can’t come up with anything. Perhaps his mother when she was still alive, and they rented out a single room in that old apartment building? Yes, he realized. He’d often climb inside her futon, and hold her hand to make sure she was really there. Silly little child happy not to be sent to the bathhouse.

Still, even his mom loved him in her own way. He’s sure of it.

His fingers brush against Akira’s stretched out arm, and down over his hand.

He needs a smoke.

For some reason, he took up smoking after their night together. Akira asked him if it helped to let out some of his newly found emotions. Perhaps, he was right. 

He wiggles out of Akira’s embrace carefully and climbs out of bed to get a pack of cigarettes from his coat’s pocket. He briefly considers going out, but a part of him doesn’t want Akira to wake up alone. _Besides_ , the other voice in his head muses, _he might get pissed off about smoking in his apartment. That’s always a plus_.

He can’t find his lighter, but he does find matches in one of the drawers in the living room. There’s only one window in Akira’s small apartment, and it’s the one in the bedroom. He opens it and takes one more look at Akira’s sleeping form. He’s still asleep and doesn’t show a sign of waking up, so Akechi decides to look out the window instead. He has no way of checking the time, but it must still be early. The street is foggy as if trying to shake off the last bits of sleep, and the sun has barely begun its everyday journey across the horizon. In the distance, he hears an ominous _caw, caw_ , and a loud hiss of a cat. He wonders briefly if Morgana’s spying on them, and chuckles to himself at the thought. It really is quite the setting – a foggy morning greets a tired detective, who wakes up next to a phantom thief…

He lights his cigarette with a match, and puts it in his mouth, inhaling as deep as he possibly can.

“Fire hazard much?”

Akira’s eyes are open, watching him like a cat ready to pounce.

“It’s cold outside,” he shrugs. “I didn’t want to go out.”

It’s a lie and they both know it.

“Didn’t realize you’d be the type to smoke after sex.”

Akechi just laughs, shaking his head.

“You want one?”

“No, thanks. I don’t need Morgana police after my ass.”

“Still scared of that cat, Joker?” He blows out the smoke.

“Morgana will tell everyone else,” Akira sits up, stretching lazily. “That means Ryuji calling me at 5 a.m. from his morning run to remind me I can never become an athlete if I ruin my lungs. Then Makoto will swing by ‘because she was just in the neighborhood’, and then she’ll interrogate me about my health habits. Oh, and let’s not forget Futaba hacking my phone _and_ my laptop to only show me adds of nicotine patches.”

“Sounds like a bother,” Akechi chuckles looking at the cigarette in his hand. “At least I don’t have anyone telling me how to live my life. But I don’t think this habit will stick. It’s good for now, though.”

He smokes in silence with Akira’s curious eyes still on him.

“I wonder, Joker.” He says eventually. “What would your friends say if they saw us together like this? Wouldn’t it possibly count as endangering your health? Do you do interventions?”

“I’d like to think they wouldn’t care,” Akira stretches again, the sheet dropping from his body, and Akechi lets his eyes linger for a moment. “They don’t mess with my love life.”

He exhales, watching Akira through the smoke. Akira gets up and he embraces him from behind, kissing his neck.

“I suppose we do have a love life now,” Akechi admits, letting his head rest on Akira’s shoulder. Akira takes the cigarette from Akechi’s hand and inhales. He half expects him to cough but once again, Joker’s a natural. Figures.

He turns his attention back to the window and realizes the sky has changed. Clouds cover most of it, and all the noises outside went completely quiet, as if anticipating _something_. The whole world takes a deep breath, watching them from afar. Akira lets him go and Akechi sits down on the bed again, pulling his knees against his chest. He can hear Akira move behind him, most likely to put out the cigarette. He ends up observing the window, waiting for _something_ to happen. He can’t shake the feeling of being watched. When he turns, he sees Akira leaning in the doorway, watching him with a curious smile on his face.

“You look like that one painting Yusuke showed me,” he explains when Akechi raises his eyebrow.

“What painting?”

Akira sits down next to him, reaching for his phone. As he browses through different images, Akechi selfishly allows himself to fully look at him. His hand moves on instinct, brushing Akira’s bangs away from his forehead. Akira barely looks up, but he leans into the gesture.

“There. That one.”

Akechi takes Akira’s phone and looks down. The painting is familiar.

“It’s Hopper’s _Morning Sun_ , isn’t it? It does look like this room quite a bit, I’ll give you that. But it’s not really sunny.”

“You know it?”

“I prefer _Nighthawks_ myself,” he hands the phone back to him. “But I don’t know much about art if I’m being entirely honest. I worked on a case once that had me research Hopper’s paintings. The culprit was some art freak, recreating famous works of art at crime scenes.”

“Did he make one out of Hopper’s too?”

Akechi nods.

“I’ll spare you the gruesome details. It would only ruin the painting for you.”

“They had no issues putting a kid in charge of murder cases?”

“Not in charge. I was merely assisting. Besides, the guy was one of Shido’s pets, so he pulled some strings to have me assigned. I saw my fair share of dead bodies, it really isn’t a big deal.”

Akira watches him in silence.

“ _Nighthawks_ is still nice though,” Akechi continues to break the uncomfortable silence. “It reminds me of the evenings we spent together at the jazz club. Or when I’d wait for you to show up in Leblanc.”

“Careful,” Akira cocks his head. “You almost make it sound romantic.”

“Nothing’s more romantic than putting a bullet through a guy’s skull,” Akechi remarks, feeling annoyance creeping back in. “A pretty thick skull, I might add.”

“I enjoyed it,” Akira says. “Not the bullet part. Our evenings together. I cherished every single one of them. I’m glad they meant something to you, too.”

“They did,” Akechi smiles faintly.

“When Yusuke showed me the painting,” Akira continues and Akechi is grateful for a change of subject. “He told me the appeal is quite similar to _Sayuri_. Well, the fake one I suppose. You don’t know anything about that woman but you can’t help but wonder what she’s looking at. What’s going through her head?”

“Not a lot, most likely,” Akechi chuckles. “I’m not thinking about anything at all myself.”

“Have I ever shown you the painting Yusuke gave me?”

“He gave you a painting? You should keep it, it’s going to be worth a lot of money someday.”

“I was thinking about hanging it at the bar, actually. Wait a second, I’ll show you.”

Soon he’s back carrying a large canvas, covered by a sheet. He hands it to Akechi and moves to sit behind him, kissing the back of his neck.

Akechi lets the sheet drop on the floor and looks at the painting. His heart stops. It’s abstract and he can’t shake the feeling he saw it before. It's colorful and as extravagant as the painter himself. It looks a bit like a supernova, Akechi thinks to himself, again getting a sense of déjà-vu. 

“Did Yusuke paint it?” He asks just to make sure.

Akira nods, his mouth still preoccupied kissing down Akechi’s shoulder.

“Something about it,” Akechi continues ignoring Akira’s ministrations. “Gives me an uneasy feeling. Like I can’t breathe. I… I haven’t felt that way in a long time.”

“It’s called _Desire and Hope_ ,” Akira says kissing his ear this time. “He painted the original inside the Mementos. Maybe this is what gives you an uneasy feeling.”

“Hope…” Akechi echoes. “Akira, I…”

He manages to avert his eyes from the painting before the feeling overwhelms him. The window to the right of Akira’s bed is weirdly bright, and it catches his attention. The world seems quiet as if it too had its breath taken upon the sight.

“It’s snowing,” he points out.

“So it is,” Akira looks unconcerned. “Now that I have you defenseless in my arms, will you tell me what’s going on?”

“There’s nothing going on.”

“Really?”

“How about you tell me if you’re so sure I’m hiding something.” Akechi rolls his eyes. “Run your little investigation.”

“Well,” Akira smirks mischievously. “Let’s review the facts, Mr. Detective.”

Akechi can’t help but gasp as Akira straddles him, pinning his hands over his head. He could easily shake him off, but a part of him wants to watch him continue.

“You cut your hair so short even I could barely recognize you,” he says ending each sentence with a kiss, traveling down, and down his chest. “You take up smoking, you have cigarettes on you, but you don’t carry a lighter. You claim you only exercised to keep yourself busy, but back in your apartment, I saw a magazine for athletes in your mail. It’s not to keep fit and it’s not because you like sports. No, it’s more than that. In one of your cupboards, I saw protein and your fridge mostly consists of things that could help you increase your muscle mass. You’re doing it to make sure no one can recognize your posture.”

“How very observative, deputy Detective,” Akechi decides to play along, and doesn’t lose his cool even when Akira pulls his underwear down his legs. “And what does that have to do with anything?”

“You were watching the window so intently,” Akira sucks on the skin right over his hip hard enough to bruise. “The very first thing you did upon entering my apartment was comment on how it’s barely visible from the main street. You’re a wanted man, Akechi Goro. Soon to be on the run.”

Akira lets go of Akechi’s hands, but it’s his eyes that make Akechi unable to move. He watches calmly as Akira reaches for the lube and condoms, trying not to make a sound, not even as Akira’s hands are back on his cock. He feels utterly seduced and unable to do anything but watch. He briefly realizes that Akira could probably kill him now. He could do anything he wanted and Akechi still wouldn’t move an inch. But Akira isn’t like him. He opens the condom wrapping with his mouth and slips it on Akechi, spreading lube generously all over his length. He wonders if Akira’s still loose from last night. As if hearing his thoughts, Akira does a very quick job of stretching himself, and Akechi uses it to his advantage, reaching out to stroke Akira’s cock. Akira throws his head back, but he doesn’t tell him to stop.

They’ve been together for less than a couple of weeks, but he already knows when Akira’s close, so he removes his hand before he can come. Akira kisses him softly, expressing his gratitude, and he reaches behind to take Akechi’s cock in his hand. He sinks down carefully, closing his eyes and looking next to ethereal. A part of him wants to touch him again, but he realizes it would break whatever spell they are under. This is real and yet it isn’t. For a moment, it’s as if Akira’s back to being Joker, his unshakable confidence wrapping Akechi around his little finger, and he doesn’t speak again until Akechi’s cock is fully inside of him.

“How does it feel to be caught red-handed by your worst enemy?” Akira says then, his eyes fixing on Akechi’s. “How does it feel to fall into my trap? Are you scared? Excited?”

He moves slowly, up and down, leaning over Akechi’s body to kiss him, as he murmurs against his lips:

“Somehow my bet is on the latter.”

Akechi breaks then and he moans, flipping Akira easily on his back to overpower him. He gets lost in the kiss, his hips moving fast, no longer caring if Joker gets hurt. His fingers are out for blood, to mark every inch of this impertinent body shaking under his own. He can feel Akira’s nails digging painfully into his back and he knows he’s not the only one feeling the same primal urge. It doesn’t last long but it’s never supposed to. Akira comes untouched, as Akechi feels himself getting closer as well, his thrusts shorter and more aggressive. Before he knows it, he whispers something he knows he’s bound to regret, and Akira kisses him again, his hand gripping his shoulder as Akechi empties himself inside the condom.

They’re both shaking, unable to look each other in the eyes. Akechi pulls out, discarding the condom on the floor without a single glance. He buries his face in Akira’s chest and to his own surprise, for the first time since he was a child, he feels pathetic tears threatening to spill out.

“You always ruin everything. Whatever plan I have, you’re there to steer me away from my path.”

“I’m not going to.”

Akechi actually laughs at that.

“You do… All of this and then you spit out bullshit like that?”

Akira’s eyes avoid him, his gaze fixated on the ceiling.

“I love you,” Akechi says for the first time. “I don’t know why, but I really do. That’s why I don’t want to do this to you. I need to leave. At least for a bit.”

“Aren’t you happy?”

“I am happy,” Akechi’s voice breaks. “For the first time in my life, I am happy. But I’ve wanted to leave Tokyo for a while now. And I can’t ask you to come with me. And it’s _because_ I love you that I can’t take you away from everyone you love.”

Akira doesn’t look surprised or conflicted. He looks defeated. The snow continues falling somewhere behind them, but at the moment, the whole world could be on fire and they wouldn’t notice. Suddenly, Akira gets up. He opens the bedside drawer and pulls out an oblong box. He hands it to Akechi.

“This is for you.”

Akechi opens the box, and to his surprise, he finds a pair of glasses. The same ones Akira wore back in high school.

“Do you remember when we went out once and you got recognized? I messed with your hair, and I made you put these on. You probably realized it then that I don’t actually need them. They’re just another mask, like Joker, like any Persona I’ve ever held within my heart. I haven’t worn them in years. I locked them inside a drawer because I couldn’t make myself throw them away. Right next to your glove, too. They reminded me of my past. And now they’re going to serve you.”

“So you’re not going to stop me?”

“I already said so,” Akira nods. “I just… I guess, what happened just now, it was me being selfish. I already knew, but I just wanted to have this. You talk about my past as if I’m not angry. As if I don’t feel screwed over. If I didn’t, I’d never been able to summon my Persona. We were both pawns. And now that we’re free, we’re too afraid to face our newfound freedom. Deep down, you want me to ask you to stay. But I don’t plan on keeping you captive. I’m letting you go. I’m letting go of our promise. From now, it’s up to you if you want to keep it.

“I see a few choices,” he continues. “You can walk right out that door, and throw my glasses into the first dumpster you’ll see. You can walk out and keep my glasses, but then you’ll never be able to fully forget me. Or you can stay, I’ll stop by Ryuji’s place to get that silly dog here, and you’ll live your life with me. Whatever you choose, it’s your own decision. I won’t mess with your feelings anymore.”

Akira seems lost in thought. His eyes wander to the window and he furrows his eyebrows together.

“It will stop snowing soon. It seems we’re almost out of time.”

For some reason, Akechi understands.

“You forget the fourth option,” he points out. “The forbidden one.”

“Oh?”

“Run away with me. Let go of your past. Let go of this place. Who knows, maybe we can pull off some grand heist? Imagine being all over the newspapers… Ex-Detective Prince and ex-leader of the Phantom Thieves. An end every mystery novel would be proud of.”

“ _Goro_ , I…”

Akechi kisses him to make him shut up. Akira’s fist clings to his shirt and for the first time, Akechi realizes just how badly Akira can’t bring himself to let him go. And perhaps, he wasn’t able to let go of Akira either. He makes the kiss last long. They only part to breathe in some air, their lips already abused from the number of times they kissed since last night. He doesn’t want it to end. He already knows Akira’s answer. It was set in stone the moment he handed Akechi his glasses. When they part, he ends up holding Akira close like a lifeline.

They can’t consider Akechi’s option seriously. They have different ideals. Freedom meant something different to Akira than it meant to Akechi. Their paths may stray, but he knows they’ll reconnect somewhere along the way.

“We’ll always be connected.” The words come out of nowhere, but he knows them to be true. “Even if your memory fails you, I’ll always be here.”

“This isn’t the last time I’ll see you,” Akira agrees. “We’ll see each other again. And when we do, I’ll present you with a different answer. And then we’ll have no more promises between us. No more what-ifs. For now, please enjoy your freedom. Please find a purpose.”

He takes a deep breath.

“Odds are against us, Goro. We’re a detective and a thief. One of us always on the run. But this had to happen to make you understand this is your own free will. Your hopes, your desires. The moment you walk out the door, your heart will begin to doubt itself again. Please remember what you said to me. Please find the strength to stop running. When you’re out of places to escape to, that’s when I’ll find you. This is not a promise. It’s my own vow to you.”

Akira steps back and Akechi knows he won’t let him touch him again. He watches Akechi get dressed in silence. He doesn’t take anything but the glasses. He will be back someday, after all.

“Please, be careful,” Akira says, smiling. “It is quite the snowy morning.”

So Akechi does just that. He puts on his coat, slipping Akira’s glasses into his pocket. He gives Akira one last nod and for some reason, takes the last glance at Yusuke’s painting, but he doesn’t see anything out of ordinary.

Once he’s out of the building, he realizes he left his cigarettes in Akira’s apartment, but he doesn’t need them anymore. Oddly, he wonders if the door would even still be there. The snow is mostly gone, but the fog is still there. He doesn’t know how much time has passed since he woke up this morning. Perhaps, no time at all.

He reaches to his pocket and is relieved to find the glasses are still there. He puts them on, and the world seems just a bit brighter.

Goro Akechi once again dies to the world, fading away into the morning fog.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story ended up way longer than it meant to be.
> 
> I always enjoyed the idea of Akechi developing bonds with other people. I always wondered about how his life snowballed, as a result of hurting a lot of different people he never even got to meet. He's a complex character that I enjoyed writing a lot since I always felt like P5 did him a little dirty. This story is a little bit of a variation about what I personally think could have happened after P5: Royal's true ending. I'm sure people have different theories, and I feel like I'm moving away from canon a bit, but I'm happy with how it turned out.
> 
> It's up to you to decide whether or not Akechi decides to embrace his happiness. I felt like I owe him a choice of his own. 
> 
> I hope you came to enjoy seeing him through my eyes, as biased as they are.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/akihmorn) if you ever feel like talking to me!


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